Game Set Match
by Phantom531
Summary: A new nurse at the hospital becomes a new challenge for House. Rated M for a little sex and some adult situations. I DON'T OWN ANYTHING
1. Challenge

Yes, this is a Mary-Jane fic, just something I thought up while making up a story-line for myself to get into House. I hope you enjoy it anyway; I had a ton of fun writing it. I'm actually going to take the challenge of working something in for all fangirls/guys without tumbling completely out of character. I hope you like it! And by the way, I live in NJ (about 15 minutes from Pinceton), so everywhere I talk about is real.

* * *

House smirked at Cuddy, the two of them locked into a Mexican standoff. She was obviously not enjoying the showdown as much as he was.

"Four clinic hours, House!" she snarled.

"Two," he replied.

"Four! Four, or I'll tell the whole hospital you've confessed your undying love for Wilson!" Cuddy snapped. She blinked, as if surprised she was sinking to his level. House made a big show of acting scared.

"Like I care- it might get me more ladies! You know they love the chance that "just the right girl" may turn around the handsome gay man!" he proclaimed grandly.

"But Wilson will be upset by it and make your life a living hell!" Cuddy countered. House seemed to consider that when a young woman poked her head through the door. She was Asian, somewhere in her late twenties, and wearing nurse's scrubs under a mustard colored canvas jacket. House gave her a toothy grin.

"Dr. Cuddy, I'm sorry, but everyone said I should see you," she said quietly.

"Oh, an Asian girl in a _yellow_ jacket; this is _too_ much material!" House guffawed. The girl didn't glare at him like he had expected, but frowned as if she was simply considering what he'd said.

"Dr. Cuddy, there's a tall, skinny, _ugly_ psychotic man in your office. Did I walk into Phantom of the Opera?" she asked. House's eyebrows went up, just a touch, "Phantom, I thought you dropped dead after no women would have sex with you. Looks like you're still out of luck." Cuddy tried to hide a snort of laughter. House's eyebrows went up further.

"Now, I hear that _chink_ women have no breasts," he said, rising. He heard Cuddy let out a surprised squeak behind him.

"Oh, if we're matching racial slurs, what's the slur for asshole?" the girl asked. She was remaining very calm. Hmmm…

"We're a whole race?"

"Well, if you're the only one, I can _definitely _see why."

"I still want to see the breasts. Just to gather scientific data." House saw Cuddy rising from her chair out of the corner of his eyes as he advanced on the girl. Instead of retreating from him, she took another step forwards.

"Well, now, that would be sexual harassment. Should I ask to see balls on a bitch for scientific data so we're even?" she asked evenly. _She didn't even raise her voice. _Cuddy stepped between them.

"Dr. House, this is Julia Ashe, she's the head nurse assigned to your team," she interjected.

"What? I get my own harem?" House exclaimed, clapping his hands in mock joy. Julia opened her mouth to counter, but Cuddy held up a hand to stop her.

"No! But you've chased off most of our nurses, particularly two head nurses," Cuddy answered sharply, " Therefore, I went and assigned one head nurse to your team and she takes the heat from you and organizes nurses as needed by your patients. It's not necessarily a whole cadre of nurses to yourself. I hired Julie because she's almost as abrasive as you are and I know she can take your crap." House's eyes flickered to the girl. He gave her a mean smile and she gave him a little smile that reminded him of a cat who'd just seen a really interesting butterfly…just before eating it.

"I've been told you can tell everything about a person by just looking at them. What can you tell about me?" Julia asked. House gave her a scan with his eyes, purposefully letting his eyes rest longer than necessary on her chest.

"You've got the rest of whatever time I'm here to look at those; answer my question, Phantom," she snapped.

"You're Korean, although I can't tell if you're full-blooded; you're close, though. Since I don't see a wedding ring, and your last name is Ashe instead of something like Chun or Yan, I'm going to guess you're either divorced or adopted. You're standing in a bastardized 4th position ballet stance, with rather good turn-out, so I'm guessing you were once a dancer; since I know they try to evenly distribute their weight between their feet and you're favoring your right, I'm led to believe you left that because of injury, though I haven't decided if it was your ankle, knee, or hip. You're also a little curvy for a dancer, as you have breasts for me to ogle, so I'm also going to guess this was some time ago. You look like you sleep at night, so I'm going to say no kids; you've got some calluses on your fingers, and I'm going to say cello, rather than violin because you seem like you'd want to stay just a tad outside the stereotype; and you have a scar on your temple I haven't figured out yet, but give me time," spewed out of House's mouth. Julie gave him a quick smile.

"I play guitar, but otherwise good job," she said.

"Julia, please wait outside for a second. Dr. House will show you to his office," Cuddy said. Julia nodded and left. House watched her go.

"Fill her in, introduce her to the team and get her pager number," Cuddy said.

"I think I'm in love," House muttered, ignoring her.

"Oh no, I was hoping you'd hate her guts!" Cuddy whined sarcastically.

"I do, that's why I think I'm in love," House replied.

"Kindred spirits, how cute! Between the two of you, you'll drive Wilson to suicide," Cuddy said.

"Mmm, probably. Wilson doesn't have the constitution for Asians," House mumbled.

"I wanted to kill her twice during her interview and the only you've done that before," Cuddy said, watching House watching Julia, "I thought maybe this would be good for you; someone who not only can take your crap, but sling it back. Maybe you'll use up enough energy antagonizing her to leave the other nurses alone."

"What fun is that?" House asked, hobbling out the door.

"She's not all yours, House!" Cuddy yelled after him. House waved a hand over his shoulder. Cuddy smiled. Julia was a transfer from Hunterdon Medical Center, who'd surprised Cuddy with her mildly acerbic attitude. Hopefully, she could act as a buffer for House's antics before another nurse quit on them. Not only that, but it was kind of fun to see someone roll with House's crap. She actually seemed to _bother_ House. She couldn't wait until Wilson ran into the two of them. Or for that matter, _Cameron_.

* * *

Julia was standing by the door as House came out of Cuddy's office. As he passed, he grabbed her elbow and roughly began dragging her through the hospital.

"If you're going to drag me, at least make yourself look like a bigger jerk and either squeeze the pressure point, or drag me off balance," she muttered. House lifted his arm a bit higher. Her body titled and she stumbled. He noticed that, as hard as he was squeezing, she didn't try to break his grip or pull away.

"You're _my_ nurse and I get to treat you how I want, understand?" he said with a smile.

"Ooh, if I'm bad am I getting a spanking, oh mistress of pain?" Julia asked. He jerked her arm forward at an awkward angle and she stumbled again and let out a surprised cry of pain. He dragged her, attracting attention like a magnet, all the way to his office. He threw her inside and shoved her into a chair.

"Satisfied with your attempt to display your manliness?" she asked as she settled into the chair.

"Oh, now, be good or I'll have to be really mean! We're talking _the lash_!" House replied.

"Nice. Now, do you actually want my pager or are you more comfortable just saying you lost it so you can run around the hospital looking for me?" she asked. House smiled.

"Fabulous idea! I always knew Asians were smart!" he quipped. She rewarded him with a smile that was oddly beautiful. As he stared at her, Cameron, Chase, and Foreman entered, Chase's eyes immediately darting to Julia.

"Knock it off, Aussie! She's mine. Unless you think you can lure her away from me with your incredibly sexy knowledge of bloomin' onions," House snarled. Chase actually took a step back, his face flushing. House noticed with odd satisfaction that Cameron bristled, though she was obviously trying to hide it.

"This is Julie, the new resident slave-nurse. I apparently am so charming that the other nurses feared for their virtue and refused to work with me," House explained. Foreman smiled and shook her hand.

"We have our own nurse?" he asked House curiously.

"Not exactly. Evidently, she's just a kind of liason to the nurses. She can take my crap, as Cuddy put it," House answered. "Julie, this is Wombat, Tinkerbell, and GTA San Andreas."

"Call me Julie again and I'll do things to you with that cane you didn't know were anatomically possible," Julia said sweetly. Chase let out a bark of laughter and Foreman hid his face. Cameron, however, had fixed her with an icy stare. House wondered if her back would arch and her hair would puff out if he kept going.

"Patient presents with severe back pain, fever, and headache. Mild difficulty breathing and a "restrained" feeling also present. All tests seem normal," she said, shortly, tossing a folder onto House's desk. Julie stood, giving Cameron a soft smile.

"It got real chilly in here all of a sudden. Don't worry," she glanced at Cameron's nametag, "Cameron, I don't go after hermaphrodites," she said, patting Cameron's shoulder and shooting House an evil smile as she left.

"I didn't think it was possible to meet someone more awful than you," Cameron muttered, replacing Julia in the chair. House grinned at her.

"I know. Makes me seem like an angel, doesn't it?" he said. She rolled her eyes.

"If you're an angel, I think I'd rather go to hell," Foreman mumbled.

"Why don't you get started on your way, Foreman?" House asked. He settled back into his chair, staring at the door Julia had just left through. This was going to be so much fun!

* * *

House stood, just inside the door, staring out to his left. Behind him, his team was droning on about what could possibly be causing the symptoms presented in the newest sick person. Chase was the first to notice House's behavior.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Fishing," House replied. He suddenly tensed and shot his arm out into the hallway. There was a sudden squeal of shock and pain, as House withdrew his arm, dragging a struggling Julia by her ponytail.

"Caught one!" he announced. As he went to drag the struggling nurse further into the room, her foot shot out and swept his cane out from under him. He crashed to the floor and she snatched the cane away.

"So did I," she said, breezing out of the room, taking his cane with her. House stared at her through the window, stunned. Chase and Foreman were quietly chuckling and even Cameron cracked a smile. House rubbed his knee where he'd landed on it thoughtfully. He'd have to try harder- this girl was a challenge, but he was determined to crack her cool…


	2. This Means War

"Have you seen the new nurse?" House bellowed down the hall at Wilson. Wilson actually seemed to duck for cover. House was hobbling down the hall, _without_ his cane.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"The new nurse healed me! She hath taketh my cane from me!" House cried dramatically.

"No, I haven't seen her and _she stole your cane_?" Wilson replied.

"And has apparently told the entire nursing staff _something_! They've been staring at me non-stop and it isn't in that 'ooh yeah, baby!' way," House said.

"This girl sounds like a nightmare. I've heard all the nurses love her, Cameron hates her, and Cuddy thinks you two are practically twins," Wilson said. His eyes flicked momentarily over House's shoulder. House turned just in time to catch his cane flying through the air.

"Nice catch for a cripple. Out of my way, white-coats," Julia said, practically hip-checking House out of the way. As she passed Wilson, she stopped.

"Hi, I'm Julia, I'm assigned to the 7th Level of House-Hell. You're Wilson, right?" she said, extending her hand. Wilson took it cautiously.

"You're not going to bite me, are you?" he asked.

"Of course she is! Look at her!" House said. "Can't you see the glistening fangs? You should know a demon-spawn when you see it, Wilson." Julia looked Wilson over.

"If I were his twin, I'd change my DNA. And do I look a hundred years old to you?" she said. Wilson swallowed.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that! Definitely not!" Wilson stammered. Julia gave him a warm smile. The type that people usually give small, retarded children. House didn't like it one bit.

"It was nice to meet you, Wilson," she said, before turning to House. "Boy, House, you know how to pick 'em!" She chuckled almost to herself, releasing Wilson and walking down the hall.

"Happy anniversary, boys!" she called over her shoulder.

"What did she mean by that?" Wilson demanded of House.

"_I_ didn't say anything!" House answered. Two nurses walked down the hall, whispering to each other. House hooked his cane into one's arm and dragged her over.

"You. What did Nurse Julia say about us?" he asked. His reputation evidently proceeded him, and the nurse looked rather frightened of him. She just stared at him dumbly.

"You want to be doing really pukey sheets for a week? I have a patient I just won't treat so he'll keep vomiting. So answer me!" he snapped.

"She told us about you and Wilson and the…ceremony last month. Not that there's anything wrong with you two together, I think it's rather sweet!" the nurse sputtered. He released her so abruptly she stumbled against the wall. As she and her friend scurried away like frightened mice, House glanced at Wilson.

"We're married, I guess! Did we enjoy our honeymoon? I was so euphoric and drunk I remember nothing!" he said. Wilson stared at him.

"I'm married!" he gasped.

"No, you're divorced. And that means nothing! You could've 'found yourself' after the divorce. It _would_ explain why you keep getting divorced and why you're always with me…and why you primp so long…" House prattled. Wilson punched him in his arm and walked back to his office. House followed him. He'd have to think of something _really_ good to do to Julia now. He wondered how many patients he could make wet the bed…

* * *

After House disentangled himself from Wilson's chiding and mastered the art of looking no nurse in the eye –for they had obviously gotten wind of Julia's little rumor- he slung his bookbag over his arm and went to leave. He kept an eye out for Julia the entire time; he was determined to get a rise out of her, or at least get revenge. Still, her reactions to him were intriguing. So much so, in fact, he'd gone the entire day just thinking about her. The fact that it bugged Cameron made the deal even better!

"Nice bike," a voice called. He'd had his eyes on the ground, thinking. He glanced up to see Julia perched on his bike.

"What the hell are you doing on my bike?" he snarled. In truth, he was rather amused she'd found it. She had changed out of the scrubs and was wearing jeans and a fitted MASH t-shirt under that atrocious jacket. She was smoking a cigarette and smiling smugly at him.

"I don't have a ride home. My car is in the shop and I don't want to wait for the bus," she replied.

"You antagonize me all day and you expect a ride home?" House asked incredulously.

"You'll say yes," she answered. He paused. Truthfully, he had no intention of saying no, but he wanted to make sure she paid for the ride.

"No, I won't," he snapped, grabbing her arm and steering her off the bike.

"Eventually you will, Phantom. By the way, this _is _a nice bike," she said.

"Yeah. I know. And get that crap out of your mouth! It's filthy!" he snapped, snatching the cigarette from between her lips. He actually didn't mind- he'd dealt with a smoker before when Stacey had started. But he'd yanked cigarettes away from Stacey and she'd reacted like a scalded cat. Julia just shrugged and exhaled the rest of the smoke thoughtfully.

"How did you know this was mine anyway?" he asked as he settled himself on the bike, tossing the cigarette to the ground.

"Wilson. I told him if he told me where you parked and what you drove, I'd tell the nursing staff he's really not gay and that you like wearing pink fluffy bunny slippers around your apartment," she said. House glared at her.

"Oh, so _I'm_ still gay?" House asked.

"He hates my guts, I had to toss him something to make sure he didn't kill me on the spot," Julia added. House paused. If _Wilson_, who didn't hate anyone, hated Julia, that was something interesting enough to get her on the bike. Then again, she could know that and be making it up just to get a ride out of him…

"Get on," he grumbled. She threw her leg over and House noticed she hissed quietly when she bent her knee. She fitted her body against his back and locked her hands around his torso, a little lower than he expected, and House felt _something_ jump. Trying to remind himself he hated this girl, he started the bike and sped out.


	3. Discovery

_Somerville!_ She lived in Somerville!

"Why the hell do you drive almost a half hour to get to work? Move closer, slave-nurse!" House asked as she got off the motorcycle.

"Because I've lived here long enough to like it and it's not like I'm driving to NYC. Did you want to come in?" she asked. He heard a hitch in her breath as she pulled her leg over the bike.

"What did you do to your knee?" he asked.

"What did you do to your leg?" she asked.

"Infarction and a girlfriend who loved me enough to hurt me."

"Pointe shoes and a slippery floor." She gave him a sad smile. She was lying, but he decided not to push it.

"What, you think we're kindred spirits or something?" he asked meanly.

"No. If I was kindred spirits with you, I'd kill myself. Here, come on in," she said, opening the door for him. Her apartment was cluttered, but not exactly messy, and somewhat small. However, House saw a pair of boxers on top of a basket of laundry.

"You have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"No, a gay roommate. We have a whole _Will & Grace_ thing going on," she answered. A rustle to the side attracted House's attention. Two pet rats were climbing the bars of their cage in an effort to sniff at him.

"The big one is Stapleton and the little white one is Lestrade," Julia said.

"Steve is bigger than you," House told the rodents, who wiggled their noses at him in return.

"You have a rat?" she asked, now actually interested. House straightened and fixed her with a stare that made even her taken an involuntary step back.

"Why is it that you are a complete bitch at work, but now you're all buddy-buddy with me?" he asked suddenly. She shrugged.

"I like sparring with you. You're fun," she answered, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket.

"Stop that!" House groaned, trying to snatch the cigarette out of her mouth. When she jerked away, he grabbed her wrist as she went to light. As his fingers closed around her wrist, he saw her face instantly pale and she tore her arm from his grasp with enough force to knock him to the floor. He looked up at her. She had backed away from him and stood trembling against the wall.

"I…I'm sorry. Please don't do that," she murmured. Her voice shook so much House almost asked her to repeat herself. He pulled himself to his feet and stood facing her. He experimentally reached a hand out to her and she startled violently before catching herself, causing him to tilt his head in puzzlement. She suddenly cleared her throat and tried to smile at him.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked shakily.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She shrugged and turned towards the kitchen. He frowned after her. This girl was an enigma of odd complexity, not to mention deeply wounded in a way that almost made House feel bad. Not quite; he hated this girl after all. It did, though, explain her personality, the causticity, and her attitude towards him. She reentered the room with two bottles of water. When she handed him the water, her hands shook badly.

"Sit down before you kill yourself, you moron!" House snapped.

"Behave yourself before I go Roger Daltry on your ass," she growled, but still sat down at the kitchen table He shrugged and downed a Vicodin, then drained his water in a few gulps.

"So, it's war at work between us?" he asked.

"I think it's fun. As long as Cuddy doesn't fire one of us," she answered.

"If she hasn't fired me by now, I doubt she'll fire you," he replied.

"It makes me feel better," she said softly.

"I'm going to go home and bother my "boyfriend"," House said suddenly. As he went to the door, he glanced back at Julia. She looked pale, almost sick, and embarrassed.

"House, I'm sorry I freaked. I…" she trailed off. She was vulnerable, open. Usually, House would have taken advantage of it, but he couldn't. He couldn't explain it either. She was damaged, and still recovering. Cameron should love her if she'd quit hating her.

"Don't think I won't use this," he said as he left. As he turned away, he thought he saw her smile at last. New ideas were forming. If it would make her feel better to start a battle, he'd make her feel tons better. He _was_ a doctor, after all.

* * *

House was still a little troubled by Julia's behavior. He would never admit it to anyone else, but he was a little worried by her reaction to his touch. She hadn't struggled at all when he'd dragged her through the hospital and merely kicked his cane away when he'd grabbed her by the hair- she'd been completely passive. He was bothered a little by the attention he was giving this moron of a nurse. The fact that she was an attractive Asian who could roll with the punches he threw even better than Wilson probably had something to do with it, but he set that aside as his crotch talking.

"Is she _crazy_?" Wilson demanded as House strolled into his apartment. He frowned.

"Aren't I crazy?" he asked. Wilson rolled his eyes.

"So far all the nurses either think I'm gay or that I'm crazy. You know she told everyone you like fluffy slippers, right?" Wilson asked. House smiled.

"I only like them because they're yours, Jimmy-bean!" House replied, watching as Wilson's face turned pink with either rage or embarrassment.

"_House_! She's worse than you are! _And_ you gave her a ride home!"

"Technically, _that_ was your fault because you told her what I drove," House replied.

"Because I thought she'd vandalize it!" Wilson groaned.

"You're just upset because the nurses aren't going to let you look up their skirts for a while," House grumbled, limping to the fridge. "It's nice not having one of those idiotic 'shrinking violet' nurses who look at you like you're either Charles Manson or God; or, worse, Brenda, who needs the stick pulled from her ass! Don't worry, you'll be playing doctor with them before long!" He snatched the first container labeled _DO NOT TOUCH, TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT _and popped it open; from the smell, it was lemon chicken curry.

"If she bugs you so much, go to Cuddy, although I think Cuddy likes her more than she likes you now," House added. Wilson was staring at him with his head cocked to the side the way Steve sometimes did when he was confused. House sprawled himself on the couch and dug into his food.

"Why are you defending her?" Wilson asked.

"I'm not. I just told you to try to get her fired," House replied. "And _what_ did you put in this? It's awful, and if your cooking doesn't regain its former glory, I'll have to sic Julia on you!"

"I didn't make it, it's leftover from a restaurant. And you _are_ defending her, in your own sick, twisted, House-y way," Wilson said. House shrugged.

"Why would I do that? I barely know her and she's been making my life miserable," he asked.

"Because you like having a partner in crime; if the two of you ever got a common enemy, the hospital would probably implode," Wilson answered pensively. "Or…you like _her_." His face broke into a smile.

"That's almost as disgusting as this chicken," House growled.

"But you're still eating it," Wilson pointed out. House grimaced and threw the entire container in the direction of the kitchen. It hit the wall near the door.

"Not anymore," he said. Wilson rolled his eyes again.

"She's half your age, she's meaner than you, and I hate her. You'd probably sleep with her just because I _told_ you I hated her!" he cried.

"No, I'd sleep with her because I like Asian girls," House said. Wilson sighed.

"Clean that up, will you?" he asked, motioning at the mess near the kitchen. House hauled himself off the couch and limped in the direction of his room.

"Crippled, can't do it!" he called over his shoulder as he slammed his door shut. He no sooner got inside than his pager went off. Damn!


	4. Told You So

The patient had been in respiratory arrest and placed on a ventilator. House glared at the patient and rubbed his eyes. They'd stayed up all night doing tests- with the exception of an MRI because the patient had been unlucky enough to have a metal plate placed in his head from some war or another. Someone poked him in the back. He turned to see Julia, who held out a cup of coffee.

"It's ok, I didn't spit in it," she said. He took it, still inspecting it before taking a sip.

"You look dead. Did the rest of you catch up with your brain?" she asked.

"Shut it, Houlihan, I'm not in the mood," he snarled. He saw her smile at the reference, completely unfazed by his gruffness.

"Have you thought transverse myelitis yet? You've dealt with it before," she said.

"Why would you think transverse myelitis? You're a nurse. Go do nursey things, won't you?" he asked. She shrugged.

"My dad had it. The patient mentioned he felt like he had iron bands around his torso to one of the nurses when they changed his bedding yesterday, and I remember my dad saying the same thing," she told him.

"No, we checked for that. It's not transverse myelitis," House mumbled.

"Are you sure?" she asked. He glared at her.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked nastily. Julia nodded and turned, placing a hand on House's back for just a moment. He jumped at her touch, pushing her away.

"You're an asshole. Don't work too hard, _Hawkeye,_" she said. He turned his head just long enough to watch her go. He noticed, oddly, that she smelled like juniper, with a thick undercurrent of hospital soap. Chase and Foreman came up to him.

"That's a kick-me sign," Foreman said. House frowned.

"What?"

"She put a kick-me sign on your back," Chase said.

"Dr House?" Julia said as she opened the exam room door. House jolted awake.

"Nap-time's over, Sunshine. Take a patient or I'll tell Cuddy where you are," she said, grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet.

"Sorry, I was sleeping off the trauma from that dumb sign you left. If you're going to descend to 5th grade, you should at least call me a stupid head and admit you have a crush on me," he grumbled as he stood.

"Ok, I have a crush on you. Now take this patient," Julia said, dropping a file into his hands.

"This patient has a cold!" House yelled at her as she left the room. He followed her out.

"You didn't even look at the file," she said.

"How did you find me?" he asked, ignoring her.

"The other nurses said you nap in the exam rooms when you're trying to hide from Cuddy. So I checked them," she replied.

"Did you check the _patient_? The dying one?" House asked.

"Yes. It's transverse myelitis," she answered.

"Will it make you shut up if I test him again?" he asked.

"No, but it'll help," she said.

"Fine! Now get me out of seeing this patient!" he snapped.

"I already did. He left an hour ago," she answered, plucking the chart from his hands. She passed Cuddy, who was leaning against the wall smirking at him. She lightly took Julia's arm, just above her wrist. House noticed Julia shuddered but didn't pull away.

"Thanks, Julia!" Cuddy said.

"No problem. He's all yours," Julia said with a big smile.

"Dr House! What a pleasant surprise! I have a whole waiting room of patients for you to see!" Cuddy said cheerily, turning to House.

"You set me up!" House yelled after Julia, who ignored him. He turned to Cuddy, glaring at her.

"I like her," Cuddy said.

"I don't!"

"Yes, you do, you just don't want to admit that there's someone else in the world who can take your crap."

"I do admit there's someone else in this world who could take my crap, but I'm used to it being Wilson. Wilson's less annoying."

"Is it fun on the other end?" Cuddy chuckled. House glared at her and stalked off.

He found Julia checking vitals on their patient several hours later. She didn't turn when he opened the door.

"Was it?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, crumpling up the test results he held in his hand. Chase and Foreman would be down soon to start treatment. Julia didn't say anything, only nodded and made a note on the patient's chart before replacing it in the holder and turning to leave.

"What, no gloating? He blocked her exit and she tried to push past him. Crippled as he was, he was still almost a foot taller than she was. She tried to push him over and away without success.

"Have dinner with me and I'll gloat all you like," she said suddenly.

"If it's a date, I want to make you miserable enough that you'll understand what a moron you are for doing this," he said. She shrugged.

"Revenge?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, slave-nurse!" he answered ominously. She smiled, grabbed his cane and yanked. He was prepared for it this time, but the movement knocked him off balance enough to allow her to pass him.

"I'll pay, we'll go after work!" she called over her shoulder as she walked away.


	5. First Date

_I made a little change to Chapter 4 because I realized I'd forgotten something semi-important. Go back and see if you can find it! But still, I hope you like this. Don't worry, it'll get better, I swear!_

* * *

He didn't see her after work. Shrugging her date proposal off as another prank, he went home. As he entered the front door, he heard the TV on. Odd, Wilson had mentioned he'd be at the hospital tonight.

"Wilson?" he called as he entered.

"No," Julia answered. She was sitting on his couch, chewing on a piece of pizza.

"What the _hell_ are you doing in my house?" he shouted, flinging his bookbag down in rage.

"Wilson let me in," she answered nonchalantly, tearing off another mouthful of pizza.

"How did you find out where I lived?" he asked, grabbing her arm roughly and yanking her to her feet so hard they momentarily left the floor.

"Cuddy. I got Wilson to let me in because I told him I had something to give you. Once he saw what they were he let me on in," she answered calmly, motioning to a box on the couch. He yanked her arm and squeezed viciously.

"I should call the cops," he muttered, reaching for the box with his free hand. She shrugged, a motion that he was coming to get hatefully used to. She gently disentangled herself and headed towards the kitchen.

"Do you want pizza? Pepperoni or plain?" she asked over her shoulder. He pulled the top off the box. Nestled inside were a pair of knitted blue fluffy bunny slippers.

"Oh, look, Stevie, she bought you something to sleep in!" he said, waving them at the rat.

"He's adorable, by the way. You'll be happy to know he bit me," Julia said from the kitchen.

"Steve McQueen fights bad guys," House told her. She handed him a piece of pizza and sat down on the couch again.

"WWE Raw is on in five minutes and I fully intend to watch it. Sit down, will you?" she asked. He frowned.

"You like wrestling?" he asked.

"Yeah. Big DX fan, used to be a Mick Foley fan before he semi-retired. I go to the VFW matches in Manville when I can," she replied. "Undertaker rocks, Kane is awesome, but I think Edge should be shot and Randy Orton eviscerated."

"If you like soap operas or monster trucks, this is a set-up," House mumbled as Raw's theme music started.

"Wrestling is as soap-opera-ish as I get and I'd only like monster trucks if one of my exes was in the car getting crushed," she answered. He was staring at her, puzzled.

"I was the only girl my age on my street. I grew up watching wrestling, playing hockey, and learning to roll with the punches," she told him. "But monster trucks are something I just never got into." She shushed him and motioned to the intro.

"Wilson let you in because of the bunny slippers?" House asked during the next commercial. Julia smiled.

"Yeah," she answered. He gave her a look.

"And because I told him how pissed you'd probably be when you found me in here," she added sweetly.

"Ah," Julia had brought beer and a bottle of tequila as well, which she brought into the living room and placed by the couch within easy reach. As she stepped over him to sit back down, she tripped on the coffee table. He grabbed her forearm –barely above her wrist- to steady her. She jumped violently and looked for a moment like she would either cry of be sick, but he let go quickly and she sat back down. They stayed silent for a minute, before House began examining the slippers she'd given him. He'd never wear them, but they were actually warm and very soft.

"Where did you get these?" he asked.

"I made them," she said.

"Oh, so you're a little old granny who knits and likes wrestling, doesn't know she's the biggest pain in the ass in the world, and freaks at odd times," he said. She considered this and nodded.

"That's about it. But be nice, or I'll cuddle you," she cautioned.

"Cuddling is a threat?"

"To you, it _obviously_ is!"

"You're an obscene non-woman, you are completely consumed by pissing me off and wrestling and you think you know me," he growled.

"You hate cuddling," she said.

"You're a bitch,"

"Yeah, you could try to have sex with me right now and I would probably push you off until next commercial," she laughed.

"Is that an invitation?" he asked.

"Nah, although I _have_ heard you'll sleep with just about anything that says yes," she answered.

"Nurses talk too much."

"Yeah. House, as sexy as I find you, I can't see how you get much action when you're growling like a constipated wolverine," she teased. He actually laughed at that one, almost ignoring that she'd made an admission about her feelings toward him. They watched wrestling silently for a moment, and House did find he didn't like Randy Orton, but did kind of like Edge. He'd watched wrestling in passing, but mostly was either drunk or stoned enough that he didn't remember who was who.

"Can I ask you something serious and we not snipe at each other?" she asked.

"No,"

"Tough. Why did you immediately discount transverse myelitis when the signs were there?" she asked.

"It was a zebra. For all I knew, it was a bad cold or meningitis," he answered.

"Zebra?"

"The old saying, _when you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras_."

"Oh."

"Now can I ask you a serious question?" he asked. He saw her stiffen next to him and she suddenly was quite interested in John Cena.

"Yes. I guess fair is fair," she answered tightly.

"Who did it?" he asked, gently running a finger around her wrist. She slowly turned to look at him, the question of _how did you know_ written on her face.

"You react violently when I touch your wrist, but not with Cuddy; you don't like _men_ grabbing your wrist. You're completely passive when it comes to someone bashing you around, until someone touches your wrist," he explained. She stayed quiet for so long that he almost repeated the question.

"My ex-fiance did…some bad things," she answered slowly and so quietly he almost didn't hear her over the TV. "To me."

"How bad?" he pushed gently. Her face was growing pale and her eyes took on a blank stare that House had seen in so many victims, but this time, he had to resist the urge to hold her hand. She moved her knee stiffly and looked up at him. Her mouth worked as if she ws trying to say something.

"Not pointe shoes?" he asked.

"When I tried to get away the last time, he threw me down a flight of stairs," she choked out, finally. "And he…used to grab my wrists while he…" She trailed off, shuddering.

"You were taught to be passive when someone was hurting you, but you can't help the wrist thing," he said. She nodded slowly, tears brimming in her eyes. She seemed determined not to let them fall, though.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Are you?" she asked, finally turning to look at him.

"I didn't mean to…"

"Don't change because I'm screwed up, House. I like the way you are," she said with a smile. "I'm getting over it; it was a long time ago. I try to talk about it and try to cope. I even like sex again. I can't let what he did to me rule my life."

"Cameron would _love _you. She likes damaged people," he said. She let out a small laugh.

"I know. That's why she likes you so much," she said. House scowled.

"Nurses talk too much," he muttered, repeating his sentiment from earlier.

"Considering they said that for two days she was skipping around the hospital like Julie Andrews on speed and then the day after, she looked like a deflated balloon; yeah, nurses talk," Julia explained, finally giving him a full smile. She interrupted the conversation briefly to cheer Triple H.

"I'm putting it behind me, House," she said. He nodded and patted her shoulder.

"It's kind of refreshing to have a whore in the house that actually likes pizza and wrestling. But you talk too much," he said. She laughed and handed him another piece of pizza and another beer.


	6. Rude Awakening

House woke up to the sound of someone chuckling. He opened his eyes and saw he was staring at the living room wall…and something was on his chest. He moved a little and the something stirred. Julia was sleeping, curled into his body, arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest. Wilson was standing at the foot of the couch, laughing. As House moved again, sharp pain clanged through his head. Oh yeah, he was hung over. His leg felt awful, his head felt worse, although he'd admittedly let Julia lay there if he could- she felt oddly comforting. He blinked his eyes experimentally and winced; not comforting enough, obviously. He poked Julia's forehead.

"Get up and get out," he growled. Her eyes fluttered open before slamming shut again.

"Oh God! Turn off the lights!" she muttered, gingerly moving off him. As she did, her hand brushed House's groin, sending electricity that he was trying to ignore up his body. She sat up, looking a little green, removed her glasses and clapped a hand over her eyes.

"How much did we have to drink?" she asked. House glanced around the room. There were empty beer bottles and an almost-empty bottle of tequila on the floor. Through the haze of pain, House vaguely remembered they had talked through the night and he'd –surprisingly- had a nice time. They'd also played a drinking game to some movie on TV.

"A lot," he groaned, shoving her further off him so he could get up. His hands discreetly brushed her breasts, and she glanced at him, but said nothing.

"Did the kids have fun last night? _Cuddling?_" Wilson asked through his laughter. He received a scalding look from both people.

"Well, she still has her clothes on, so I'm guessing it wasn't too big of a date," Wilson added, louder than necessary. House threw his cane at him and Julia just groaned and buried her head under a throw-pillow.

"By this time tomorrow, the nurses are going to know you cross-dress on the weekends," she mumbled through the fabric. Wilson chuckled again. House snatched the bottle of Vicodin off the table and downed a few before passed a pill to Julia. Wilson let loose a sarcastic gasp.

"House _sharing Vicodin_? The world has come to an end!" he cried. House and Julia both flinched. Wilson gathered up most of the bottles and took them to the kitchen.

"Nice to see House getting along with someone for once, even if she is _you_!" he called before loudly flinging the bottles into the garbage. Julia squeaked, trying to burrow herself into the couch.

"Is it my day off?" Julia muttered from under the pillow.

"You, yes. House, no," Wilson said, finally lowering his voice to normal, but still retaining the smirk. He handed her a glass of water and she downed the pill with it. House had found it funny that she absolutely couldn't dry-pop pills and was fascinated with how he did it.

"I'm calling out sick. And it's _your_ fault," House said, pointing at Wilson.

"I'm going to crawl back to bed. Have the team call me later if they need help and if I feel better, I'll answer," he added. "You, stay there. Sleeping with you once without sex is enough." Julia waved a hand in agreement. Wilson grabbed House's arm.

"No, you're just hung over, you're not sick. Drink some coffee, go to work!" he ordered. House shook him off.

"Forget hung over, I think I'm still drunk. Mummy, can't I stay home please, please?" he begged, throwing a mock-tantrum.

"House…" Wilson started.

"The patient is in recovery! I'm sure that Cameron or Chase would page me if…" Just then his phone rang. House swore loudly and grabbed it.

"What?" he shouted into the phone.

"H-House?" Cameron's tiny little voice floated through.

"Yeah, it's me. If that's all you called to say, then good-bye!" he snarled.

"No, no, House, I wanted to tell you that the patient is stable and we have no other cases currently, but Cuddy…" Cameron stammered.

"Oh, dear, is she going to come over and give me a spanking? I'm sick, leave me alone!"

"Sick or hung over?" Cameron's voice took on an annoyed tone that House had heard several times before. It was like having his mother around all the time.

"Does it matter? I don't feel good, I don't want to come in, get it?" he snapped, slamming the phone down. The second it hit the cradle, the phone rang again.

"I'm sick, stop calling!" he yelled into the phone.

"I don't _care_ if you're sick! Get your ass in here! I have a whole bunch of kids who had a fire extinguisher explode in their classroom on their way in ten minutes!" Cuddy yelled. House recoiled from the phone.

"Nice to hear from you so early in the morning!" he said venomously.

"Morning? It's almost one, you low-life! And get Wilson back in here too, tell him I'm sorry!" she shrieked.

"Do you need an extra nurse?" he asked sweetly.

"Yes! Anything! Another pair of….Wait, _why_?" Cuddy asked, stopping herself short.

"Julia's here. I'll send her over if I can get her resuscitated," House replied.

"What the…She…Forget it, I don't want to know! Get both your butts in here _right now_!" Cuddy snarled, hanging up the phone so hard House was sure she'd broken it. Julia was already struggling up from the couch.

"Good thing I have scrubs in my car!" she muttered on her way to the bathroom. House heard her splashing water on her face. She came back out, scrubbing her glasses on her shirt.

"Who wants a ride?" she asked, retying her ponytail.

"I thought your car was in the shop!" House said, glaring at her.

"It was. I got it back just about an hour after you dropped me off. Besides, I would have left it home anyway to get a ride home from you- it worked me into your icy little heart!" she said, tweaking his nose as she passed him. Wilson tried unsuccessfully to cover a burst of laughter and House shoved him into the doorjamb as they followed Julia out the door.

* * *

"Do you _know_ how _moronic_ it is to smoke in a car with an oncologist in the backseat?" House asked.

"I'm not a patient of his yet," Julia said. House glanced back at Wilson who rolled his eyes, reached around her head and yanked the cigarette out of her hand.

"I asked you to put it out!" Wilson snapped.

"It's _my_ car!" Julia said with a laugh.

"This isn't a car, it's a wind-up toy!" Wilson yelled. Julia's car, a two-door Hyundai Accent_ was_ very small. House had called cripple-privilege and crammed Wilson in the back seat.

"You could've taken your own car!" she shouted back, smiling slyly at House. She was enjoying this and, admittedly, so was House. It was irregular to see Wilson rattled like this.

"You offered! And my _God_, it's a _mess_ back here!" Wilson argued.

"You could have said no!" Wilson didn't answer that one. House settled in his seat, endlessly amused at how flustered Wilson was becoming. Wilson was rooting through the mess in the back seat. Julia, House was discovering, was a compulsive clutter-bug.

"Aw hell, you've got underwear back here!" Wilson squealed.

"Ooh!" House exclaimed, reaching back and snatching them from Wilson.

"I keep an overnight bag back there. _Why_ are you rooting through it?" Julia asked with a giggle. House chuckled. _Care Bear _underwear!

"Oh, if it's not black and lacy, I don't want it!" he said, chucking it over his shoulder just so they would hit Wilson in the face.

"I may have a vibrator back there if you want it," Julia told Wilson. Wilson shuddered and moved as far away from the offending bag as possible. They pulled up at the hospital a few minutes later. House climbed out of the seat and allowed Wilson out, who stormed away, throwing his hands in the air.

"You think he hates me _now_? Wait till he gets wind of what I told the nurses," she said. House grinned and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"He's going to blame me for this, you know," House said. He didn't mind., Frankly, it was all he could do to keep from rubbing his hands together and cackling like a mad scientist on how much Wilson-irritation he could squeeze from this. As if reading his mind, Julia smiled and patted his hand where it lay on her arm.

"I'll see you later!" she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and bounded away. He stood there, momentarily stunned. He'd _liked_ that kiss…


	7. Exam Day

There were indeed several small, snot-nosed children, some of them still wheezing pitifully from the fire extinguisher. Their main injuries were the five children who were actually hit by the bouncing fire extinguisher. Apparently, someone had used it to put out a small fire in the grass outside and hadn't replaced the pin properly. The thing had literally exploded all over the place, firing itself across the room. House caught sight of Julia across the emergency room, cleaning out the eyes of a small girl. Cuddy was heading towards him, one small bleeding kid balanced on her hip.

"Ok, Cuddy, what slavery am I subjected to?" he asked. Cuddy thrust the child at him.

"He fell running away from the room. Bad head bump, please take care of him," she ordered irritably. House reluctantly took the child, who immediately locked his thin arms around House's neck.

"Ugh, just like a tick, little bloodsucker!" he growled. The kid immediately started to cry and Cuddy gave him an exasperated look. House could feel the blood against his neck where the kid's head was resting.

"Let's see what you have. You're lucky, usually people I look at are too sick to hate me just yet," he said, hauling the kid into an exam room. A quick examination actually told him the child had a nasty bump, but nothing serious. He'd have a bad headache and the abrasion did require three stitches, though. He was trying to clean it out and keep the kid from squirming or crying at the same time when Julia led the boy's parents in.

"Oh, is he alright?" the mother squealed as soon as she saw her son. House rolled his eyes as the kid struggled away from him and pounced at his mother.

"He'll be fine. He'll just have a scar above his eye where his head met the nice desk," House answered.

"A _scar_?" the woman gasped.

"Well, only for a while. It'll go away eventually," Julia said. The boy looked at his mother. He was getting blood all over her jeans.

"Are scars bad?" he asked, plainly afraid.

"Oh, but, you know what? You're going to look so tough all the other boys will think you're Indiana Jones!" Julia said, stooping to talk to the kid.

"No, Luke Skywalker!" the boy shouted.

"Fine, Luke Skywalker, after Return of the Jedi, when he's a real Jedi warrior!" Julia conceded. The boy smiled and climbed back up on the table for House. Aside from a little flinch away from the needle, the stitching commenced with no problems.

"Star Wars?" he grumbled, setting the kid on the floor with a band-aid. Julia nodded.

"Hey, Harrison Ford is hot," she replied.

"You're a geek and you seem to have an unhealthy fascination with older men."

* * *

A few hours later, House and Julia met in the cafeteria, having patched up every child who didn't immediately try to run away from House's un-child-friendly mannerisms.

"Did you actually tell the nurses Wilson cross-dresses on weekends?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No, but I will if he keeps irritating me. I told them he has an unrequited crush on one of them, and, since this is more viable and –they think- more serious than you and Wilson together, they are all trying to figure out which one he likes," she said.

"They didn't really believe that Wilson and I were together? I'm crushed!" House joked.

"No, they just had fun antagonizing you guys with it," she replied. He smiled and almost put an arm around her shoulder before stopping himself and dropping his hand to his leg so hard Julia raised an eyebrow at him.

"I want to get something straight here," House said suddenly. "I like you and I have no idea why because you're possibly the biggest bitch next to Cuddy on her yogurt days!" Julia laughed.

"House, you mainly like me because I'm the only age-inappropriate woman in this hospital who will put up with you and I make Wilson tremble in fear," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "I liked you from the second you opened your mouth. You're fun and I'd like whatever this is, wherever this goes, to be fun."

"Yeah, Highway to Hell in a handbasket, real fun," House muttered, scowling at her.

"Are you and I actually having an intellectual relationship conversation, here or a state-of-the-union-type cease-fire negotiation?" Julia asked, popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth.

"I don't want to make this a boyfriend-girlfriend thing," he said. "You're a slave nurse and I'm a boss, it might be bad for us."

"You're only a boss when Cuddy's not around, so if we keep her around all the time, what do you say?" she asked. House recoiled in mock terror.

"Cuddy more than I have to? Good Lord in Heaven, no!" he cried.

"You don't like me?" Cuddy said from behind him. Julia giggled and leapt up from the table, racing away faster than House had seen most mongooses on Animal Planet. Cuddy sat down across from him. He frowned at her and downed a Vicodin.

"You guys are so _cute_ together!" she laughed. House rolled his eyes.

"We aren't _together_!" he snapped.

"I've only seen you flush when someone touches your arm when Stacy did it when you guys were first together," Cuddy said. She let out a strangely girlish giggle. House glared at her.

"We're not together. I only hang out with her because Wilson doesn't like her, after all," House said, thoughtfully.

"And she stays over last night because...?" Cuddy asked.

"We got drunk and fell asleep," House answered, shortly. He tossed another Vicodin down his throat. He felt like he needed a whole bottle right now.

"Wilson says she was cuddled up to you. House, I didn't know you cuddled!" Cuddy teased.

"Did you hire her just so you could set us up?" he asked. Cuddy laughed.

"No, but it's a very nice bonus! Brenda said she's a little tomboyish, so I don't think you should take her out anywhere nice to start," she said, suddenly launching into a plan.

"You're reading too much into this, Cuddy," he mumbled.

"Maybe a movie, although I've never known you to sit through anything without ripping it to shreds?" Cuddy continued, ignoring him.

"No," he grumbled.

"Well, I know she likes hockey, why don't you take her to a game?"

"I'm not _taking her out_, I'm _not_ dating her!" House shouted, loud enough that people at the surrounding tables turned to look at him. He sneered at occupants of the closest table.

"House, I just think…"

"What?" he cut her off. "That I need someone? In case you haven't noticed, I'm a lot happier with no one around. Girlfriends just rearrange your stuff, break your heart, and leave. Besides, I've only known her for three days, I'm old enough to be her father, and she's messy. Examine it all you want, nothing good will come of it and I don't want it to!"

"Is that what this is all about? You want to be lonely and miserable because you're scared of getting hurt?" Cuddy asked gently.

"She's a _whack-job_!" House exclaimed.

"So are you. Personally, I think she's good for you; she's a fireball and she never just takes what hyou dish out, but she slings it back. Can't you give yourself a chance to enjoy someone else's company?" Cuddy asked. House rolled his eyes.

"You're a therapist now too? Because you're almost as bad at it as you are at being just a doctor!" he snapped, pushing his chair back and storming away. Cuddy watched him go. She'd never seen him react to anyone like this before- with Cameron, he'd been resistant, maybe shocked, but certainly not angry. He must really like this girl. She allowed herself to smile and watched him hobble down the hall.

* * *

He found Julia outside on the balcony, smoking a cigarette thoughtfully.

"You mad at me?" she asked.

"No, not really," he answered. It came out angrier than he meant it to.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh for god's sakes, _shut up_!" House snapped. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, then, pass this test and I'll leave you alone until I have another fiendish idea," she said. He rolled his eyes and popped a Vicodin.

"Julia, I think you're insane. I'm old, I'm cranky, I'm mean, and everyone hates me. Except for you. Why?" he asked.

"Other than you, I'm probably the most loathed person in this hospital. I stepped on toes getting this position, I'm a head nurse with barely enough experience for the title. Granted, it's only for your department and otherwise I'm normal, but still. Wilson, and Cameron both like you and they hate me. So why shouldn't I come to you?" she asked. Her hand landed on top of his where it rested on his cane. Her touched seemed to burn his skin, sending jets of sensation up his arm.

"Then I'm not ready for this," he said. His voice was gentler and he couldn't explain why. He swallowed.

"My mother always said if everyone waited until they were ready for something, humans would be extinct," she said. He tried to walk away from her, but her grip on his hand tightened. He knew he could overpower her, but somehow…

"What's this test?" he asked, hoarsely. He could smell the juniper on her hair and see the odd curve of her eyes, the funny scar on the side of her head. She stood on tiptoe, her mouth pausing so close to his he could feel the heat from her breath across his teeth.

"Just this," she murmured. Her mouth closed over his and he felt a sudden jolt. He froze, unable to think of what to do next. It'd been a while since he'd been kissed like this. But then she gently parted her lips and touched his tongue with hers. The paralysis broke suddenly and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, dropping his cane to the ground. He slid his hands around her back and yanked her body against his, lifting her off the ground. Julia tasted like fruit, with the harsh taste of her cigarette on top. The combination should have been repulsive, but it was, instead, an odd aphrodisiac. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling herself up further. His bad leg trembled, but he leaned against the wall to steady himself. They finally broke for air and he set her down, reluctantly pulling away.

"Wow. I should have done that sooner," she said with a smile. House tried to catch his breath and only shrugged at her. He retrieved his cane from the ground and tried to ignore the pounding in his crotch. He glanced at her and noticed that the slight breeze made the loose scrubs cling to her body. He bit his lip hard and turned his head.

"You passed," she added. Cursing himself for giving in, he leaned on the railing, watching her. A fall breeze drifted through and she shivered slightly. Her scrubs were thin and he could see her nipples poking through the thin material and goosebumps rising on her arms. He turned his head with difficulty; as much as he wanted to stand and stare at her breasts, he knew he couldn't do anything about how much he was enjoying it now.

"You're an idiot on so many levels," he said, leaning his cane against the wall so he could pull off his jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She shrugged and lit another cigarette. Usually, he knew he'd tear the jacket straight off her again, but he strangely _wanted_ the stale smell of her cigarettes on him later...he'd smoked in the past –just about everything- but had never liked the lingering smell of old smoke, unless it was Julia's. They stood for a few moments in silence, staring out at the New Jersey fall which, compared to other places, was rather unspectacular.

"You said you didn't want a boyfriend-girlfriend thing. So, what do we call it?" she asked finally.

"I don't want to call it anything," he said.

"Ok, well, since we are now reasonably sure we're 'nothingness', did you want me to come over and make dinner?" she asked. He blinked.

"You cook?" he asked. "What _are_ you, the bionic woman, come from the Matrix?" Truthfully, he was surprised. She didn't seem like the type to do _anything_ remotely domestic. Then again, she knitted as well.

"Rather well, and rather unhealthily, so hopefully you don't value your arteries," she answered. She looked over the railing to make sure there was no one below and glanced inside to make sure there were no witnesses, and flicked her cigarette over the side.

"I can still beat up on you at work, right?" he asked slyly.

"You have to catch me first!" she said, snatching his cane from where it rested against the wall and running inside. He opened his mouth to yell, but could see she was already halfway down the hall. He smiled inwardly to himself. He hadn't had this much fun since Wilson first moved in, truthfully. And he supposed he sort of deserved it for leaving it there when she was around. He limped inside, downed a few more Vicodin and set off to find her.


	8. Revenge, Rock & Roll, Release

* * *

This is a pretty long chapter, and I had a TON of fun writing it... Oh, and I have a few cute references in here for anyone who's a fan of any of the actors' past works. ;) FYI- This is one of those chapters that was the reason for the M rating!

And no, I'm not happy with it yet, so keep checking back, it's getting revised.

The song used in here is Tori Amos' _Sleeps With Butterflies_ off "The Beekeeper". Usually, I hate fics that just add songs in, but this one made me really kind of think of House, so I conceded. Enjoy!

* * *

House skidded down the hall in a wheelchair. He almost crashed straight into the Brenda-Monster.

"What are you doing in a wheelchair?" she asked, obviously annoyed.

"Move aside please, I am searching for a certain brand of evil called _nurse_!" House said loudly. He sniffed Brenda as he passed her.

"Nope, not this one!" he said. Brenda looked ready to punch him when Cuddy approached.

"House, what are you…"

"Everyone's healthy except me! Help me, doctor!" House cried. Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Did Julia steal your cane again?" she asked. House shrugged and Brenda giggled behind him.

"Maybe I just want to roll around in a wheelchair for a few hours. Yeah, she stole my damn cane, what about it? What am I supposed to do? Dance the samba down the hall on one leg?" House muttered, trying not to sound pleased. He inwardly loved Julia for it. He got to slack off for another few hours just searching for her!

"Well, I know it's slow in clinic and you don't have any cases for now, but please don't irritate everyone!" Cuddy groaned.

"All work, no play makes…" he started, but Cuddy turned and slammed the door in his face, locking herself in her office. House sighed melodramatically and began rolling himself past the nurse's station again. Just as he did, something jammed the wheels of the wheel chair, almost ejecting him head-first to the floor. He looked down and saw his cane jammed in the spokes of the wheels. He did not, however see Julia, but he could hear her laughing down the opposite hall. She must have been hiding in the nurse's station. Brenda, now behind him, was laughing like a stoned hyena. He yanked the cane from the spokes to threaten her with it and noticed a note wrapped around the handle of his cane.

_I'm off at 9:30- if your ancient old heart won't give out from the boredom, I'll give you a ride home and I'll make dinner_. –_J_

He smiled in spite of himself. It was so clichéd that it almost nauseated him. But he'd make it worth his while.

* * *

Cameron was slouched so far down in her seat that only her head and one shoulder peeked above the table. Chase and Foreman were racing Sudoku puzzles. House was flicking spitballs at them alternately. Cameron batted one aimed at her eye away.

"Dammit, House! Do something else!" she snapped.

"Ooh, the kitten bares her claws!" House cooed. Foreman and Chase looked up simultaneously.

"Why are you still here? Don't you have a _girlfriend_ to torture?" Cameron said.

"Word travels so fast. No, she's not my girlfriend and I'm waiting for something to happen," House replied.

"What, when she gets off work?" Chase asked.

"No, better," House answered. He checked his watch.

"What are you planning?" Foreman asked.

"Julia's on rounds right now. She's not a slave nurse now, remember, she's a normal nurse until someone starts dying," House said, as if lecturing students. He stood abruptly.

"Who wants front row seats?" he asked. Chase and Foreman frowned, but followed. Cameron was still scowling at him, much as she had ever since Julia began working with them.

"House, have you ever thought of not acting like a 12 year old?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No. Besides, Julia _likes_ me this way! How scary is _that_?" House replied. When she didn't move, he rolled his eyes and left her in the office.

"You know Cameron's more mad that Julia has the audacity to be just as bad as you are than she is at you," Foreman said.

"Yeah, well, jealousy is flattery," House answered.

"House, she's exactly like you. Isn't that going to end badly?" Chase asked.

"Actually, Julia's a bit more light-hearted than I am. Still a bitch though. Why do you want her? Or is it that you just want me and she'd be the only way you could date "me" without being a fag?" House asked. He checked his watch again and motioned the other two to follow him.

"Sometimes, when it comes to a girl, you need to _really_ get their attention," House told them as they walked through the halls, until they stood outside the women's locker room, whose door was just closing.

"Five…four…three…two…one…" House counted down. There was a startled shriek and a crash. The door popped open and an avalanche of empty pill bottles cascaded out, followed by Julia.

"And sometimes you already have their attention and you just want _revenge_," House said, giving Julia a wide grin.

"Are these all _your_ empties?" she asked, kicking a pile of bottles to House's feet.

"I'm practically putting the hospital's pharmacist's children through college, he owes me a favor," House replied. She huffed and pulled back inside the locker room, kicking bottles aside.

"What did you _do_?" Foreman asked, staring at the sea of pill bottles. He and Chase actually looked amused, but were trying to hide it.

"Filled her locker _and_ the surrounding lockers, then rigged the door so they'd all open at once," House answered. "I haven't spent this much time on a prank since freshman year of college, really, so it's nice to know I never lost my touch."

House was fairly in shock by the time he left- there were no sick people in the hospital and he hadn't been fired yet. Cuddy had made him clean up all the pill bottles, but it had been rather worth it- and all he did was sweep them all into the janitor's closet nearby. He'd spent the last hour of waiting for Julia reading aloud from _Soap Opera Weekly_ to Cameron, just to see how long she could ignore him for. She had amazing tolerance.

* * *

House supposed it was the calm before the storm- it was fall and flu season would soon run rampant and no more fun for anyone. Julia was out by her car, smoking and smiled when he approached. She threw a pill bottle at him as he approached.

"Asshole!" she said, but she was smiling.

"I was _trying_ to get you to run out in your underwear," House told her. She stuck her tongue out at him. She was wearing a red t-shirt with Loony-Tune's Pussyfoot on it. The cartoon cat was wearing an expression of evil-cuteness he'd seen on Julia at least once. It suited her, as did the color.

"So, your old-man system survived the boredom of a healthy hospital. Let's go," she said, unlocking the car for him.

"Wilson?" he asked as he got in.

"Leave him alone and he'll come home…Besides, I got half the nurses going ga-ga over him. He'll find a ride," she answered. House glanced at the CDs loading up both visor-holders.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" he groaned as he began picking through them.

"What?" she asked.

"Ok, you have Bruce Springsteen, but that's the only excusable choice in here and I'm betting you only like him because he's from New Jersey and it's somewhat required. You have Marilyn Manson next to Chopin, Rob Zombie and Tori Amos, the _Indigo Girls_ of all bands, Carmina Burana, and who the hell is Charlotte Martin?" he complained.

"You'd like Charlotte. She's a friend of my cousin's actually. She's like Tori Amos-lite," Julia replied, jamming a CD into the player. "You'll like it and if you don't, that's too bad." She wasn't lying. The lyrics were good, girl's voice was sweet, if a little high for House's taste; but what caught his attention was the piano. She was very good.

"Well, she's not bad," he told Julia who smiled at him in reply. She switched out the CD.

"This more reminds me of you," she said. Something horrendous burst from the speakers and House jumped back.

"I _knew_ you were a moron! Turn that down!" he shouted over the noise.

"Good, angry music. Like you," she answered innocently. "Rob Zombie's _Feel So Numb_."

"It's awful! Turn it off!" House snapped. She laughed and switched the CD out again. This was obviously metal, but it was almost enjoyable.

"Tool. You might actually like these guys," she said.

"Why?" he asked critically.

"They have a rather philosophical outlook on music and believe it should be complex and deep instead of just all screaming, although they do quite a bit of that sometimes," she answered, "And they put on concerts that make your head spin!"

"I have no interest in mosh-pits," House replied.

"No moshing. They would rather everyone stood and listened instead of make asses out of each other," she said.

"You have got to be the weirdest, most stupid woman I've ever met,"

"I'm not like other girls…which reminds me…" she changed the CD once more. House recognized Tori Amos' voice, but not the song.

"The chorus," she told him.

_Just say the word, you know I will find you_

_And if you need some time, I don't mind_

_I won't hold onto the tail of your kite_

_I'm not like the girls that you've known_

_But I believe I'm worth coming home to_

_Kiss away night, and this girl only sleeps with butterflies…_

"Am I supposed to glean some epiphany from this?" he asked. She shrugged.

"If you can," she replied.

* * *

Dinner was surprising. Julia made pasta and salad, which was shockingly good.

"What's in this?" House asked.

"You wouldn't believe me, so just eat it," Julia answered.

"No, I'm curious, so tell me or I'll make things worse for you at work," House persisted.

"Beer," she answered. House frowned at his food.

"No wonder I like it," he muttered.

"It's the only somewhat healthy thing I make, although it's nowhere near actually good-for-you food," Julia said, forking another noodle into her mouth.

"I wouldn't be here if I thought it would be good for me," House replied. She threw another empty pill bottle at him.

"I keep finding them in the pockets of my clothes," she told him. He snickered.

"So is this like a Beatrice and Benedick 'merry war' thing?" she asked.

"Merry war?"

"Shakesphere's _Much Ado About Nothing. _One of the only plays of his I really like."

"I'm not going to confess my love for you just because our friends say I should, you know. I've got my reputation to worry about."

"Your reputation as an asshole."

"And you're a bitch, so we're even. No, Julia, I think of this as a chess-match."

"Chess? I hate chess."

"_Really_?"

* * *

An hour later, House was learning Julia didn't like chess because she was laughably awful at. But he let her keep a few of her pieces for a while. It was better to toy with her.

"So, do you like Gregory or Greg?" she asked, picking at a piece of felt at the edge of the card table he'd pulled out for this.

"Greg. My parents called me Gregory when they were pissed off at me," he answered, capturing one if her rooks and pushing her hand away from the felt that she was about to rip off the table.

"Hmm, you don't seem like the type to like a shortened name like that," she said, glaring at him as he snatched her piece from the board. She sighed and moved a bishop forward

"Nope! And I know you don't like being called 'Julie'," he said, moving one of his own bishops in.

"Julie sounds too cutesy. Julia sounds too cutesy, but I can't do much about that, thanks to my ever-loving mother," she muttered, moving a pawn an ill-advised space forward.

"I don't think I can picture you being truly cute, but I'd like to see you in a dress, sometime. Preferably something low-cut and revealing," he said with a grin, scooping up the pawn she'd just moved with his knight. She scowled at him.

"I hate dresses," she grumbled.

"How about I win this game, you wear a dress tomorrow and I take you out somewhere," he challenged.

"Like a date? You said you didn't want this to be a boyfriend-girlfriend thing," she said coyly.

"I don't. I just want to see you in a dress because I know you'll hate it," House replied.

"I'm not taking this bet," she said, surveying the board and moving her king over a space.

"Why not?"

"Because you're going to beat me," she answered. He chuckled and moved his queen.

"Check."

"I hate you," she groaned. He smiled across the board as she glared at her pieces.

"You know, staring at them isn't going to make them win," he told her. "Nothing will at this point." She pushed her chair back and moved around the table to his side.

"Hmm, kiss for the winner?" she asked. He smiled before complying. She slid into his lap, straddling him. He grabbed her around her waist and crushed her against him. He could feel her body through her tshirt, the press of her breasts on his chest, the grind of her pelvis against his. He dove into her, his hands moving around her to find her breasts. They were slightly larger than he'd thought on first glance, but an almost perfect fit for his long fingers. He squeezed one roughly just to hear her gasp. She ground her hips into him and he bit her lip in answer. He involuntarily thrust his hips forward, knocking them both into the card table and scattering the remaining pieces.

"House, I have condoms in my purse," Julia whispered against his mouth. She pulled back and reached for her bag. Before she could get there, he grabbed her and slammed her against the nearby bookshelf, pinning her body with his, driving his tongue back in her mouth. She squeaked in surprise, but didn't react in fear. He'd almost grabbed her wrists to pin them above her head, but thought better of it and settled for grabbing her under her arms and lifting up so he was back between her legs.

"I have them all over the place. Believe me, we're all good," he growled, moving to delicately run his tongue up the pulse in her neck. She shivered and let out a small moan that House thought was possibly one of the most erotic things he'd ever heard.

"Couch?" she muttered, yanking his shirt over his head.

"Wilson doesn't sleep there anymore, but we can do it there anyway," House said, chuckling low in his throat, letting her down. He wished he could have just lifted her and done it right there, but he knew his leg would never hold. No fun.

They dropped to the couch, her hands slipping around to his front and unbuckling his belt. She gently pushed him off her enough to yank his jeans down and moved her hips forward so he could peels hers off. He stopped for just a second to stare at her underwear.

"Black and lacy, like you wanted. I actually had to dig through my locker to find a clean pair," she murmured. House smirked and pulled her shirt off, a little rougher than he'd intended. Her bra matched. He swore he actually felt his mouth water at the sight of her; she was curvier than he'd thought she'd be, but he'd never had an objection to curves. He scrabbled with one hand at the side table, which had a condom stuck in the drawer. As he did, one of her hands slipped into his boxers and wrapped around him. He gasped in spite of himself, his back arching. She was stroking him, gently, but in a way that was driving moans from his throat, making his whole body tense. Oh, God, he had to find the damn condom before it was over a little too soon. He reached down with his free hand and stilled hers. Finally clearing his head, he found the condom and tore it open with his teeth. She took it from him and slid it on him, her hands doing _something_ that nearly forced him to climax right then. As soon as he was ready, he dropped back onto her body, seizing her mouth with his. He braced himself with his good leg, and ran a finger around the leg of her panties. She moaned and nipped his tongue, using her legs to slide his boxers off the rest of the way. He moved her panties aside and pushed two fingers into her.

"House…" she whispered.

"Oh, I don't do this quickly," he told her. She tried to reach down between his legs, but he pushed her hand away.

"No," he scolded softly. She raised an eyebrow at him and shifted her weight, upsetting his balance. His pulled his fingers out of her to catch himself and she bucked her hips, her sex barely touching his. It was enough. He thrust upwards into her, using one hand to guide himself. She was tighter than he'd thought she'd be and he momentarily froze, gasping for breath.

"No one tortures me," she purred in his ear. She gently ran her tongue along the outside of his ear. He moaned and thrust gently. She rocked her hips against him, driving another cry from his mouth.

"Harder, House, I won't break," she whispered. Her teeth suddenly sank into his shoulder. House growled low in his throat and thrust so hard she slid up on the couch cushions. She gasped and arched her back, giving him access to her breasts. He seized a nipple between his teeth and leveraged himself up on his good leg, thrusting harder, faster. He moved up a little and kissed her again, pressing his tongue into her mouth. Her nails bit into his back, he nipped her lower lip. He was trusting so hard he was sure he was hurting her, hell, he was hurting himself, but he couldn't stop. He was dizzy, disorientated, _bleeding_ where she'd scratched him, and loving every second of it. She was a fireball, a scratcher, a biter, allowing him to be rough. He was sure he was leaving bruises wherever he grabbed her. He also knew she'd love it. Julia suddenly folded one leg back and extended it up. The flexibility was probably the most sexy thing he'd ever seen in his life. It changed his angle of entry and the orgasm hit him unexpectedly, twisting reality, melting the world around him. He actually spasmed so hard he couldn't move. He felt her tighten around him as she followed and for a moment he thought he might come a second time. The spasm let go, finally, although he still felt oddly buzzed. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her. His leg didn't hurt, nothing hurt… Actually, it felt like some knots had undone themselves in his back.

"I need a cigarette," she said after a while. He chuckled and slowly pushed himself up and off of her. She grabbed his shirt and her jeans and stretched as he disposed of the condom, dropping it conspicuously on rim of the wastebasket, just in case Wilson dropped by.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" she asked, smiling. She gave the impression of a cat who'd just eaten a canary. Perhaps, in a way, she had. As she sat up, he noticed a tattoo on her back, but couldn't make it out before she dropped his shirt over it.

"I haven't had a release like that in a while," he said, still a little stunned.

"House, I don't think you've had much release ever," Julia teased, snatching her cigarettes from her purse.

"Want one? Even if you don't smoke it, you can come outside and keep me company while I try to walk normally again," she said, taking his cane from where it rested against the couch and hooking it into his arm. He smiled and began yanking on his jeans, stretching his back. Upon realizing she'd taken his shirt and he wasn't _about_ to wear a shirt with an adorable cartoon kitty on it, he settled for wearing his jacket instead. As he threw it on, he felt his back stretch and crack. Yeah, _release_ was the word.


	9. Confrontations

"What the hell is this?" Wilson shouted as he walked up to the apartment. House and Julia were sitting outside, both smoking cigarettes.

"Afterglow?" Julia said. Wilson glared at her.

"Ooh, he's giving you the "Jimmy-Means-Business Eye". That's usually reserved for me," House warned.

"At least tell me those are normal cigarettes! I don't trust either of you!" Wilson sputtered. House examined his.

"Unless they make joints with _Marlborough_ written on the side, we're being good. Besides, wouldn't we be a lot happier?" he said.

"I'm pretty happy right now," Julia piped up.

"I'm not," Wilson shouted.

"It's more dramatic and less embarrassing when you shout earlier in the evening. It's almost midnight, you know," House told him. Wilson shook his head and stormed into House's apartment.

"I thought you weren't living here anymore!" House shouted after him.

"I have stuff here, which I'd like to collect!" Wilson shouted back. Suddenly his head poked back out the door.

"There is an odd atmosphere in here and it…smells funny in here," he said.

"_I smell sex and candy_," Julia sang. House couldn't help but laugh. Wilson shuddered.

"On the couch!" House called inside. Wilson instantly reappeared and walked to his car.

"At least you're no longer sleeping on it!" Julia said. Wilson turned around and walked straight up to them.

"You are the worst influence on him ever! I can't _believe_ Cuddy hired you!" Wilson shouted. A neighbor shouted obscenities out the window, demanding quiet, and Wilson grabbed her arm and yanked her into the apartment.

"Oh, Jimmy, if you want your turn…" House laughed as he followed them.

"You and House are engaged in this insane little tennis match of back and forth pranks and the rest of us are trying to work, trying to be normal!" Wilson shouted in her face, shaking 

her arm as if she were a child. "You're an awful influence and making life miserable! Do you understand what could happen?" House stood still. Julia didn't flinch at all, just stood staring impassively at Wilson.

"Wilson, leave her alone," House said calmly. Truthfully, he was a little worried about Julia, not that Wilson would ever think of hurting her, but that she would fire back. That might not be good.

"Wilson, I _like_ House. I'm not toying with him and I'm not just doing anything to annoy you. The fact of the matter is, I like what I'm doing and you're not my boss or my father, so let go of me," Julia said, calmly.

"I have to be the adult here- I don't think anything good will come of this!" Wilson said, releasing Julia's arm. She rolled her eyes and sat back on the couch. Wilson rummaged through the hall closet, pausing to give dark looks at Julia's back as she turned on the TV.

"If you're hungry, there's leftover pasta in the kitchen. I promise I didn't poison it," she called over her shoulder. Wilson glared at House, who motioned him into the kitchen.

"Why are you so upset. I thought you would be happy that I found a woman I don't hate or irritate and who's not Cameron!" he hissed.

"House, all you've done the last few days is turn into a six year old!" Wilson argued. "Look, I don't want you to get hurt. When you get hurt, you shut down and when you shut down you end up burrowing into yourself and making the rest of us miserable along with you."

"Wilson, how can you tell someone's going to get hurt here?" House asked.

"Because you've known her for four days and you've already had sex with her and no money changed hands," Wilson replied. He scooped some pasta into a bowl and took a bite.

"This is good. When did you learn to cook?" he asked.

"Julia made it. It has beer in it," House answered. Wilson frowned, staring at his food.

"No wonder you liked it," he muttered, sampling another bite. "At least she can cook so you're not bugging me so much. Seriously, is the only reason you like her because I hate her?"

"No, I like her because _she makes me happy_," House snapped and stopped short. Wilson was staring at him in shock.

"Did you just say what I think you just said?" Wilson gasped.

"No. I wasn't serious!" House replied, darting into the living room and dropping onto the couch next to Julia. She whispered something to him and he chuckled. Although it was most likely something derogatory towards him, Wilson smiled in spite of himself. House would never admit it, but maybe Julia did make him happy. As much as he disliked Julia, she was doing _something_.

House contemplated what he'd said to Wilson. It had, truthfully, just popped out. He turned to look at Julia. Maybe he was happy, although he had to admit, it'd been so long since he'd been really happy he was trying to figure out if he was. Still, he couldn't wait until he mystified his team with it.

* * *

House walked in the next morning, feeling rather light. If his leg would've handled it, he would've skipped in to his office, just to horrify his team when he told them why.

"Good morning!" he chirped as he walked in. He settled himself into a chair and grabbed the first file on the table.

"What's wrong with you?" Cameron asked.

"Got laid, all happy," House answered. All three of them dropped jaw and gaped at him.

"You're never happy, even when you get laid!" Cameron said.

"Didn't pay for it this time, although I probably will end up doing so later. What's wrong?" he said, looking from face to face. "Cameron, you could use your face for a Jack-O-Lantern next month! And Foreman, you have gone Caucasian! And Chase…well, you just look more idiotic than normal." Chase and Foreman exchanged glances.

"What happened?" Chase asked.

"Already covered that. Who's the sick people?" House answered. The team continued to stare at him.

"What? You want details?" he asked.

"No!" Cameron snapped.

"Ok, then what's making this person sick?" he asked.

"Thirty-four year old woman, two months pregnant. She presents with all the symptoms of a miscarriage, except for the miscarriage part," Foreman babbled, eager to change the subject, giving a cautionary glance at Cameron, who looked like she was going to scratch her boss.

"Abdominal pain, some bleeding, aches, pains, and chills," House read.

"The fetus is fine on ultrasound. So it must be something else," Cameron said, still glaring at House.

"She's in a lot of pain. Maybe it's a delayed or incomplete miscarriage," Chase suggested.

"No, there'd be no heartbeat on the fetal monitor. The baby is doing just fine. A bit large, but fine," Cameron answered.

"Test the amniotic fluid to make sure it's not an infection, do a pelvic to see if maybe there's a problem with her cervix or vagina that has nothing to do with the fetus, and do some blood work to make sure there's nothing else swimming around in there," House said, standing.

"Are you ok?" Foreman asked.

"Better than you'll be, my short black friend! Go get a stool sample to make sure there are any parasites, other than the one in her uterus," House said, clapping him on the shoulder. The team left with their assignments, each staring at him over their shoulder in shock.

House wandered down to the patient's room, finding Julia talking to the patient while checking vitals. It didn't seem to be going well.

"Get out!" was heard clearly through the glass. Julia hurried out of the room as a bedpan crashed into the wall by the door.

"I just asked her if she felt better! Shows being nice never helps!" she said, darting around House. More objects flew through the open door, a plastic basin bouncing against House's legs. He poked his head in.

"I'm not usually one to hide, but you'd bigger than I am, and I'd rather you got hit than me," Julia said from behind him.

"Good afternoon. That hurt," House said to the patient.

"What do you want, string-bean?" the woman snarled.

"What's her name?" House asked Julia.

"Dianna. Tell her if she throws something else and actually hits me, I'll make sure she _needs_ the ICU. She can hit you all she wants," Julia snapped. Dianna took aim and hurled a book at her.

"Dianna, I admit, nurses sometimes only serve as target practice, but you have to leave this one alone. What'd she do this time?" House asked Dianna.

"If I'm miscarrying, just _tell_ me!" Dianna cried.

"Well, as far as I can tell, you aren't. You're just mean and trying to kill my slave-nurse," House replied.

"Liar!" Dianna shrieked, hurling another book at him. He ducked. Chase and Cameron ran in.

"What's happening here?" Cameron gasped. Julia walked in with an IV bag.

"I need to change her IV bag and she broke the other one and won't let me get close enough to do it!" she grumbled. Dianna grabbed the vase of flowers someone had given her and launched them at Julia. House batted them away with his cane.

"Dianna, we're just trying to help you. Let us figure out…" Cameron started. She caught the teddy bear that came flying at her. Dianna had run out of things to throw and just glared at them.

"I'm having a miscarriage! It's happened before!" she sobbed helplessly.

"Ma'am, you're not having a miscarriage. I will get the ultrasound again and show you the damned fetus' heart beating!" Julia snapped, creeping forward with the IV bag.

"Then what the hell is wrong with me?" Dianna shrieked. She suddenly grabbed the IV stand and swung it, connecting with Julia's head. House started forward to grab her as she fell and Dianna shoved the whole stand over, the top slamming into House's bad leg. He yelped in pain and crashed to the floor, on top of Julia. Blood spurted from the patient's arm where the IV had been yanked from her skin. Chase and Foreman raced forward to restrain the raving patient. Camera dropped to her knees beside House and Julia.

"Are you alright?" she asked, rolling House off Julia. House's leg felt like someone had broken it. He curled up on the floor, grinding his teeth. Julia didn't answer.

"Check Julia and quit asking dumb questions, _of course I'm not alright_!" he snarled. Cameron glared at him and went to Julia.

"She's coming around, but she's bleeding bad," Cameron told him. Julia muttered something and sat up, obviously dazed. She used House's cane to leverage herself to her feet and stood there, teetering for a moment.

"You dead?" she asked House.

"I hope so!" the patient spat.

"Look, if you don't shut up, we'll be forced to sedate you and you don't want that if you're pregnant, do you hear me?" she shouted. The patient froze, staring at her in shock. Julia nodded in satisfaction and turned back to House.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Good, an intelligent question! Of course it had to come from a stupid little slave nurse instead of a doctor!" House growled. The pain was so bad it made his stomach turn. Cameron went to reach for his leg, but he slapped her hand away. He didn't want anyone touching his leg right now.

"Can you swallow a Vicodin?" Cameron asked.

"No," he answered thickly, dry-heaving in spite of himself. Foreman and Chase tried to haul him to his feet, but moving his leg was excruciating. Julia appeared with a wheelchair, the same one he was using the other day, judging from the dent in the spokes. As he sat down, she jabbed him in the leg with a needle, hit the plunger, and retreated. The needle burned furiously when it went in, but she was so fast he didn't have time to scream at her, and the pain immediately started to subside. As the pain ebbed, he noticed the nice, floaty feeling that came with morphine.

"What did you just shoot him with?" Cameron asked.

"Morphine. He'll be his charming old self in a little bit. Just let him sleep it off in his office," Julia replied, patting him on the head like a puppy.

"I don't need to sleep. If you want to put me out, you can give me another syringe of this stuff," House mumbled. Julia wheeled him down the hall as Chase, Foreman, and Cameron went to tend to the now restrained patient.

"You know, for getting yourself hurt like that, I should dump you down a flight of stairs," Julia scolded.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," House replied. "And I can function fine with morphine in my system!"

"Right," Julia said sarcastically, rolling him into his office.

"I'll see you later. Try to figure out what's wrong with that woman before she actually hurts one of the nurses," she added as she shut the door. House sighed, the morphine quietly buzzing through his head. Suddenly, he noticed something.

"Hey! You left with my cane again!" he shouted down the hall.


	10. Diagnosis

_Now, I can wrap this up pretty quickly, within about 2 more chapters, If I'm good. I'm debating doing so, it will depend on how many reviews I get for the next chapter or two. So review if you want the good ending! Hey, this chapter has an actual diagnosis in here! ;) Send me your reviews!_

* * *

Cameron walked in bearing his cane almost a half hour later.

"I found this in my locker," she sneered, dumping it on the table in front of House. House smiled.

"You shouldn't hate Julia, Cameron, just…OK, hate her," he told her. Foreman rolled his eyes as Cameron opened her mouth to retort.

"_In the meantime_," Foreman said, forcefully.

"Yes, does anyone find it odd that our little slugger seems _so_ convinced that she _has_ to be having a miscarriage?" House asked.

"House, she could be terrified of it and wants us to come out and give her the truth," Cameron said.

"Violence, paranoia…. Could it be neurological? Or maybe psychological?" House mused.

"Psychological? You mean like stress or something?" Chase asked.

"No, she'd be in full miscarriage," Cameron said. "Unless you have some sort of opposite of pseudocyesis."

"Well, what did the _tests_ I told you all to run show?" House asked.

"Her white count is a little high, but nothing else," Cameron said, sounding a little defeated. They sat in silence for a moment.

"_Is_ there a type of pseudocyesis?" House asked Foreman.

"I'm not a psychiatrist, but I don't think so," he answered.

"Well, she has to be bleeding from _somewhere_ because of _something_," House groaned.

"Well, since your girlfriend figured it out last time, why don't you ask her?" Cameron asked abruptly. Everyone stared at her in silence for a moment. As if suddenly realizing what came out of her mouth, she reddened and stared at her file.

"Cameron, now don't be upset just because someone else figured it out for us last time! Except that it was a slave nurse and she's better at pissing me off than you are?" House said. Cameron looked up and met his eyes. Foreman and Chase both cleared their throats and looked like they wanted to fade into the table.

"I think it's inappropriate that you're sleeping with her," Cameron said.

"Well, would it make it any different if I was sleeping with _you_?" House asked. Cameron's face turned from red to pale and she dropped her eyes again. She muttered something under her breath that he couldn't hear, but he was sure it wasn't flattering.

"While you three figure it out, I'm going to go get myself something to chew on, since my _girlfriend_ isn't here," House said, standing. He thumped the leg of Cameron's chair with his cane as he left and she jumped a bit.

* * *

House's leg still felt like hell. He limped down the hall, almost dragging his leg behind him.

"House! I want to talk to you!" Wilson shouted from down the hall.

"What? I just want my licorice!" House whined.

"Julia…apologized. Did you put her up to it?" Wilson asked. He seemed shocked, almost upset.

"No, I didn't, why would I tell her to apologize to _you_?" House asked.

"I wanted to know if you thought she was sincere, or if you told her to say she was sorry, or –God help me- if she's apologizing in advance for something she's _about_ to do!" Wilson babbled. "She seemed awful upset. Almost like she was absolving herself before going to the executioner, I've seen some patients do that when they're dying. Julia's not dying, is she?"

"Are you on drugs?" House asked.

"No, sleep deprived and over-compensating for no coffee," Wilson answered. "The coffee machine in the cafeteria isn't working and I didn't have time to stop before work because you and Julia gave me nightmares!" House's licorice thumped into the bottom of the vending machine. Wilson nudged him aside and inserted his own money.

"I think it's nice you're spending time with someone who makes you happy. I think it's nice that you're having fun. I just want you to be careful!" Wilson said. His candy got stuck.

"Why?" he grumbled at it, as if it would fall on his command.

"I think the world just hates you, Wilson," House chuckled.

"You got yours, it's the same damned thing! Why'd mine get stuck?" Wilson muttered.

"It's not the same thing, you got a candy bar, I got licorice," House explained, as if talking to a little kid.

"Damn!" Wilson growled, giving the machine one last kick of frustration. House looked at the candy, no, _stared_ at it.

"Are you having one of your epiphanies?" Wilson asked. "Can I try to use your cane to get my candy before you race off to save the world?" House took off down the hall without answering.

"Thought so," Wilson sighed.

"Ectopic pregnancy!" he exclaimed as he hobbled into the room. Cameron, Chase, and Foreman looked up. Cameron turned red again.

"What do you mean?" Chase asked.

"She's carrying twins, but one got stuck in the wrong spot on the way down," House explained. "One fetus made it to her uterus, the other implanted in her fallopian tube. The trauma would cause bleeding, the pain would cause the _massive_ irritability."

"We would have seen it!" Cameron protested. House motioned them to follow him and hurried down to Dianna's room.

"Not if it's up far enough." House told her. As they passed the nurse's station, House slammed his cane on the counter. All the nurses jumped.

"I need an ultrasound machine! As soon as possible, please!" he said loudly. Julia rounded the corner.

"There's one already in there, get it yourself!" she said, putting herself between him and the other nurses.

"You're assisting, slave-nurse!" House said, grabbing her arm.

"What are you doing back here?" Dianna snapped.

"We're going to play a game called "Count the Bouncing Babies"!" House told her as Julia readied the ultrasound. House studied the screen and waited. He heard a collective gasp as he found what he was looking for.

"Sure enough. You, ma'am, are carrying twins. One has implanted here," he said, pointing to the screen, "And one as implanted here. And it looks like the little bugger is about to 

rupture your fallopian tube. Let's do a laparoscopy, we're going to have to take the second one out."

"Wait, I have two babies inside me?" Dianna gasped.

"Yes, but one is probably not viable and will probably end up endangering your life and your other child," Cameron said.

"Can't I keep both?" the patient asked.

"The incidence of an ectopic pregnancy carrying to term is very low. If you try, it could kill both you and the other baby, which has a chance!" Chase piped up.

"Listen to the wombat; trust me, it's better than bleeding to death or dying of shock when that thing pops your tube like a blocked garden hose," House told her. The patient turned pale and began nodding madly. House smiled and turned to Julia, who was staring intently out the glass door. He gave her a solid nudge in the back with his cane and she almost toppled over before she snapped out of her little trance. He gave her a puzzled look, but she just shook her head and rejoined the other nurses.

* * *

"Are you going brain-dead or was that a look of recognition I noticed today?" House asked several hours later. Julia was sitting on the balcony outside his office with a cigarette.

"No," she answered simply, dragging on her cigarette. As he stood and watched her, she lit a new cigarette off the old one, viciously snubbing the old one as she finished with it.

"You're not ok, so don't even say it. If you don't want to tell me what's the matter, that's alright, but don't kill yourself…" he trailed off. As she turned her head, he caught sight of bruises on the back of her neck. They weren't from him. He brushed his hand over one and she jerked away, almost burning him with her cigarette.

"What happened?" he asked, stepping closer.

"Get off it, House, I don't feel like letting you pick my brain," she said, irritably.

"Who did you see today?" he asked. "Or, who saw you?"

"What the hell do you care?" she snapped suddenly. "I'm _nothing_ to you, I'm a cheap prank and a quick lay! You don't care about anything except your bike and your piano, so don't even pretend you're concerned about me!" He stood in silence, contemplating what she'd said.

"If I said I cared, would it make a difference right now?" he asked. She stared at him through haunted eyes, and for a moment, he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her.

"No," she answered, in a way that almost sounded like an obscenity. She tried to push by him and through his office when she was met face to face with Cuddy, who looked from Julia to House.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked Julia, though her eyes were on House. Julia nodded and the two began to head to the door. House followed.

"Did you find him?" Julia blurted.

"I'm sorry, Julia, security tried to catch him, but he got out," she told Julia, who paled and began to tremble.

"Am I fired?" Julia sputtered, yanking the door to House's office shut behind her. House followed them out in the hall.

"I can't fire you because _someone else_ is being an ass, or Wilson, Cameron, Chase and Foreman would all be on the breadlines. But I think you should take a day or two off from work," Cuddy said. House frowned.

"What's going on?" he asked, hobbling straight up to them. Julia looked at him and he took a step back. He'd never seen her look so…_hurt_ before. Hurt and angry, and he'd never seen Julia look like that before. It scared him in some deep part of himself that he hadn't accessed in a long time. She met his eyes for a moment.

"House…I…" Then, with a violent shudder, she took off down the hall. Cuddy tried unsuccessfully to grab her, but Julia was already gone. She sighed heavily and turned to House. She looked very upset.

"What? It was that wheelchair thing?" he asked. Cuddy wearily raised a hand to shut him up.

"Can someone tell me what happened? I'm not going to burst into tears and die! I'm not _crippled, _not fragile!" he shouted. She shrugged, sighed and shook her head.

"Julia's ex showed up in the emergency room today. He recognized her and started following her around the hospital," Cuddy explained.

"Has he caught up with her? I think she saw him today while we were with Miss Double Dip," House said. Cuddy nodded.

"He tried to grab her earlier and she got away from him, but no one was able to find him. She transferred here to try to find somewhere where he couldn't find her, but apparently, he checked all the hospitals in the area."

"Tell her that she can stay with me for a while and have her get her roommate moved. Likely, he knows where she lives too," House said. Cuddy stared at him.

"No offense, House, but you've never…"

"I know. Tell everyone it's because I want free sex all the time," he snapped.

"Oh my god, you have a heart!" Cuddy teased, walking away down the hall.

"Do not! Do not!" House shouted after her.


	11. Lost & Found

House found Julia outside the emergency room, smoking. He touched her shoulder and she jumped and almost punched him.

"I'm sorry. I hate feeling this way," she said.

"What way?"

"Like I have to wait for something to happen. I'm _tired_ of this crap, I'm tired of looking over my shoulder for him, I'm tired of running away."

"You're going to hate this, but I want you to stay at my apartment for a while. Free sex, good TiVo, and no Romeo On Acid." Julia glared at him and shook her head.

"What the _hell_ makes you think that I'm going to _move_ _in_ with you?" she snapped, throwing her cigarette down and stamping it out viciously.

"You're not moving in, you're just staying there. Trust me, I've lived with a woman; _staying with_, and _moving in_ are two different things. I learned a tiny bit of woman-speak in that time," House said. She was quiet for a moment, before rummaging through her bag for her keys.

"No, House. I'm going home, like I always do. I'm not letting him disrupt my life anymore," she said. He used his cane to bar her way.

"I had Wilson disable your car," he explained, holding out a handful of car fuses. In truth, he'd gone through Wilson's car and grabbed the spare fuses his always-prepared friend kept in the glove compartment. But Julia didn't need to know that. She gaped at him.

"A lot of bad things can happen in parking garages where no one can see," he said sweetly.

"You had the _audacity_ to…"

"Yes, I did. Because I care about you and I don't want you to get hurt!" House shouted. To his surprise, Julia burst into tears.

"What? Am I suppose to stop now because you cry? I've seen many people cry, sweet-heart and no one has gotten to me," House said, although he didn't really mean the remark. When she didn't stop, he corralled her over to a nearby bench and sat down with her.

"I'm sorry, alright? Do you know how hard it is for me to ever apologize? Now stop crying!" he ordered. She didn't. With a sigh, he looked around to make sure no one he knew was looking, and put his arms around her. He held her close, laid her head on his shoulder. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest and feel her breath sobbing. She stopped abruptly, as if she were noticing exactly what was happening.

"I can be human sometimes," he said. She gave a shaky laugh.

"I hate being weak. I hate being at the mercy of all the men in my life!" she muttered.

"Wilson and Cuddy and the other nurses and I will all be here. He can't get you here," he told her. He felt like a romantic idiot, but he wanted to make sure she knew she was safe. With him.

"I hate being scared," she muttered.

"I know." He held her for several minutes. He could have held her for hours. He realized he didn't need a Vicodin right now, and his leg didn't hurt. She took that away and to his surprise, he'd let her.

"I want you to know I really enjoyed this little match of ours. I'm sorry if I kind of attacked you with this relationship and I know you hate it, but I really had fun. I actually care about men again and I don't know if I should love you or hate you for that," she said, standing. She walked into the hospital, leaving House outside. He sat there, thinking. This girl had been the most fun at the hospital he'd ever had. He would have gladly even given up Vicodin to make her safe. _She really did make him _happy, even for the short time she'd been in his life. And he wanted to ask if she could take the first choice.

* * *

Julia didn't reappear for several hours. Chase came in to deliver the news that the patient, bitchy as she was, would be fine and carry the remaining baby to term. Julia still didn't reappear. Grumbling, House went to look for her.

"Wilson! Did you see Slave-Nurse?" he asked. Wilson rolled his eyes.

"Around two hours ago. She says she's not moving in with you, you're all mine, and she hates me," Wilson replied. House frowned.

"Did she say where she was going? You didn't tell her about her car, _did you_?" House hissed.

"No, I didn't tell her about her car, no, she didn't say where she was going. Why, should she have?"

"Has _anyone_ seen her in hours?" House asked, banging his cane against the nursing station.

"No offense, House, but we all thought she was with you slacking off," one of the nurses said. House never panics, but an ugly feeling started crawling up the base of his neck.

"No! She's not with me! We're not screwing in a supply closet! You people _work_ with her, now find her!" he shouted. Cuddy darted around a corner.

"House? What the hell?" she cried.

"Julia's gone MIA. Have you seen her, oh, almighty one?" House replied, nastily, his uneasiness at Julia's sudden vanishing act stoking his temper. Cuddy looked horrified, her huge eyes getting bigger.

"She quit on me two hours ago. I told her that you told me to have her stay at your apartment and she quit on me and ran out. I thought she'd have gone home with you," Cuddy answered. House shook his head.

"You didn't _check_? How much paperwork does it take before you notice a nurse is missing? Someone find her for me, I don't care who does it, but find her _now_!" House bellowed, storming through the door. Wilson trotted behind him.

"What has got you so upset? So Julia went home! And what's this about her moving in with you, you guys have known each other 4 days!" Wilson sputtered.

"She's got a psycho ex somewhere out here. He showed up at the hospital and tried to hurt her once. I'm pretty sure he's coming back for seconds," House answered. Wilson looked at him in horror.

"And she ran out of the hospital? While she was there, she was protected! Why would she run out alone?" Wilson asked.

"Julia doesn't like being weak. That much should be certain. If this guy was scaring her, she'd have gone looking for him. I hope she was more successful than he was this afternoon," House answered. He walked to the parking garage. Julia's car was still there. _A lot of bad things can happen in parking garages where no one can see_. As House neared the car, his heart dropped, thudding into his stomach. There was blood on the passenger door handle and it was ajar. He and Wilson exchanged glances. Wilson immediately darted off to check around the car and in the area, which was almost completely deserted. House, ignoring his screaming leg, jerked the car open and leaned inside. There was blood all over the backseat and all the stuff she usually kept in the car was gone. As he reached in the back to search the floor, a hand, bloody and bruised, grabbed his wrist. He recoiled in shock, almost knocking himself out of the car. His leg flared, but he ignored it. Julia lay, covered in a black blanket, on the floor of the backseat. House popped the seat, yelling for Wilson. Julia was trying to sit up weakly.

"What happened?" House asked. Julia made a sound like a sick kitten and reached out to him. He gently pulled her from the car. As he did, the blanket fell aside and he could see bruises, upon bruises. Worst of all, she was barely clothed, her scrubs in bloody tatters and House could see blood was smeared on the insides of her thighs. Her eyes were blank, staring, and her eyelids fluttered. Where she touched him, she was cold. She was shocky, delirious, and obviously in pain.

"Richard…he caught up to me in the parking lot…" she whispered. House wrapped her in the blanket and pulled her into his lap. Wilson appeared behind him.

"Oh God! What happened?" Wilson gasped.

"What do you think happened? That bastard ex of hers raped her and tried to kill her because security isn't worth a damn!" House snapped. He tried to lift her and stumbled. She yelped in pain. Suddenly, she gagged and aspirated blood down the front of House's tshirt.

"Wilson, take her, I can't lift her," House said, defeated. He wanted Richard dead, hell, now he wanted Stacy dead. Because of her, he couldn't lift his girlfriend when she was hurt and that hurt him almost as much as seeing the shape she was in. Wilson gently took Julia from House and lifted her easily. Julia's hand emerged weakly from the blanket and reached for House.

"House?" she whispered.

"It's ok. I'm still here," he told her.

Julia had a broken rib and she'd been strangled and raped. She'd also been beaten brutally, although Richard had spared her face. Most abusive men did these days, House thought detachedly as he sat by her hospital bed. The stupid girl had actually told him she only needed something for the pain and tried to leave the emergency room. What was worse was that she mentioned Richard had done the same thing, with almost the same amount of damage in the past. And Richard had not been caught yet.

House stayed by her bed, watching the seemingly endless parade of well-wishers walked by her room. He was silent the whole time.


	12. Home and Invasion

A week later, House took Julia home. Back to his place, not hers, although she fought him long and hard over it. He borrowed Wilson's car, since he didn't trust her to remain upright on his motorcycle with her rib broken as it was. He'd gotten a bag of her stuff from her roommate, who'd visited her in the hospital, a shorter young man, who was so obviously gay House almost laughed at him. But for once, he didn't feel like making fun or abrasive comments at anyone.

Julia was very quiet in the next few days. She slept almost all the time. House alternated with Wilson on staying home with her, since he refused to leave her alone. He told himself he'd do it for Cuddy if the same thing had happened and maybe he might have. But he wasn't sure. This was Julia. It took him a few days before he realized he'd referred to her as his girlfriend in his head.

He knew she was feeling better when he came home and found dinner on the table and his usually-unused ties and a few pairs of his boxers used as party streamers.

"I'm not at work anymore, so I had to do _something_ to you," she told him.

"What is this?" he asked, poking at the plate of food in front of him. She was watching some film about puppies and he changed it until he found a hockey game.

"What's that? What's _this_?" she asked. She didn't like the Rangers, and he knew it. He smirked.

"Flyers Vs Rangers. Devils aren't on tonight."

"Carbonara. Eat it or you can starve," she replied. He began shoveling food into his mouth.

"It's heavy, don't eat it like that or I'll end up driving you back to the hospital," she warned. He shrugged.

"Couple Vicodin and I'll be fine," he said.

"How many stashes _do_ you have?" she asked.

"A lot. Now shut up," House growled. She smiled, picking at her own food. He hadn't seen her eat much in the time she'd been there and she was growing thinner and thinner.

"When have you known me to shut up, House?" she asked. He shrugged.

"You're a moron. I don't expect you to," he said. She smiled and ate a few mouthfuls in silence.

"How long should I stay here? I've been here two weeks," she asked.

"You can stay forever. The last woman who moved in with me after the first date stayed for five years," he answered. She was quiet for a time, moving her food around on her plate.

"House…" she whispered at length.

"What?"

"Could you be in love with me? I need a different opinion of love than what I've gotten so far," she whispered. He sucked in breath and she held hers. They stayed like that for several seconds.

"Julia, I won't say it unless I mean it. I may be an ass, but I won't," he said. She shuddered a little and nodded.

"I know. I'm sorry, it's weird. We haven't known each other long, and I'm being stupid."

"I _could_, given time. Is that enough?" House asked, not looking at her. She paused. After a few minutes, she smiled. She slid into his lap.

"That's enough," she said. She kissed him softly. He frowned; he'd never known Julia to be gentle.

"Are you ok? With anything?" he asked.

"I'm tired of not being ok, so I am making myself ok," she answered. She threw a pill down her throat and took a sip of water.

"Was that one of mine?" he asked, smiling. He stood up, taking a menacing stance. She laughed at him.

"Yes, it was and what are you going to do about it?"

"Don't make me chase you. I'm crippled, remember?"

He took a moment when they made it in the bedroom, to notice she'd made an attempt at making the bed. Too bad. He gently lowered her onto it, gently scraping his teeth along her collarbone.

"I know that you said that you don't let anyone torture you, but you stole a Vicodin of mine, I think I have to make you suffer," he chuckled against her ear. She giggled and ran her tongue up the pulse in his neck. He shuddered and pulled her mouth to his, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her hands ran down his back.

"Are you sure you're alright to do this?" he asked.

"I want to," she whispered. "Just be really gentle."

House couldn't remember the last time he'd been truly gentle with someone, or the last time he'd actually made love with anyone, instead of just had sex. But with Julia, he was willing to do both. Afterwards, she lay in his arms, snoring softly, like she always did. He's thought that snoring would irritate him, even as soft as it was. Stacy had snored and he'd hate it. He lay there next to her, wondering if he should have lied to her when she'd asked if he loved her. He also thought on whether or not it would have been a lie.

* * *

Something crashed over House's head. As he sat up, he heard Julia laughing and running down the hall. Two pot-lids lay near the door.

"It's a little early to be so juvenile, isn't it?" he shouted after her. Living with someone else had never been fun before. He was wondering where she was going to take this. He smelled food, though. Food was good. He popped a Vicodin and reached for his cane.

"Eggies in a basket," she announced as he walked into the kitchen.

"It's food, I don't care what you call it. And why the hell do you put the eggs in the toast anyway?" he sneered. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

"You're lucky I don't poison it. Now eat," she told him.

"Oh, so you think you're head of the household now?" House asked her. She didn't answer, but was staring intently out the window. He frowned and repeated his question. She shook herself and actually looked at him.

"I'm sorry. I keep seeing him everywhere," she said, leaning on the chopping block next to him.

"It's alright. As long as you don't see him in me," House said. She smiled. Her hands shook.

"Is it your day off?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so. If you want it to be, I can just tell Cuddy I have to take care of you. I guilt tripped her so bad that I think she'll be subservient to me for a while," he said.

"What did you say?" she asked. She didn't smile, she seemed almost angry.

"I told her that, if she was going to be a crappy administrator instead of a crappy doctor, she should at least take care of her nurses. I'd rather not have you die on me," he said. She shrugged.

"I would've died, House. I do everything on my own terms," she said, tweaking his nose as she walked past him.

"I'm going to run some errands, if you don't mind. Want to come with?" she asked as she walked into the living room. "I will reinject you into the land of the living if it kills me!"

"Your enthusiasm sickens me. Can't we stay in and see how close we can get to the noise ordinance level?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I like my ability to walk straight."

* * *

Julia wasn't as boring as House thought she'd be as she picked through the grocery store. He hobbled along behind her, one hand almost always on her arm. He hated to even think of letting her out of his sight. He was being an idiot, paranoid.

"I think I'm ok, House, let go of me," she complained as they were putting the groceries in the car. She winced as she loaded the groceries into the car, but hand't allowed him to carry anything, insisting her ribs were fine.

"I'm worried you'll finally come to your senses and race from me screaming," he said. She smiled.

"I'm working on it," she said. Her face suddenly paled and the bag she was holding slid out of her hands. House turned, following her eyes. A young man with brown hair stood on the other side of the parking lot, watching them.

"Is that Richard?" he asked. She nodded shakily.

"What I wouldn't give for a gun," House muttered. Julia practically dove into the car. House got in next to her.

"Stop staring at him, you're no action hero, House. Do me a favor and call the cops. How the hell did he find me?" she shouted. House dialed the phone, cursing Richard. She was doing so well, and now she would lapse back into silence.

* * *

Shockingly, when she got home, Julia didn't lapse into silence; she actually seemed rather intent on pretending that it never happened, which disturbed House almost as badly as her being quiet. She made dinner and insisted on watching one of the _Alien_ movies. She didn't say anything until they went to bed.

"Do you think he knows I'm here?" she asked suddenly.

"I don't think so. Want me to post Wilson outside as a sentry? I think I know some way to blackmail him into doing it," he said. She shuddered, curling up into a fetal position. She always turned away from him when she slept- she said it was more that, even if she liked to cuddle, she knew he didn't and it was her way of negating temptation. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," he said, feeling like an idiot. He was bad at consoling people.

"Yes, maybe it is," she muttered.

* * *

Although Julia was never one to sleep in, she was still asleep when House left for the hospital the next morning. How worried he was about her and how much he wanted her to be comforted mildly disturbed him, not to mention that this was the first day he'd left her all alone since she'd come home with him. The day past with him in a slight haze. Cuddy asked after Julia and he almost didn't answer her. She gave him a knowing smile and let him go.

"Nice to know you finally know you have a girlfriend," she told him as she left his office. Yeah, although if this worrying was part of the deal, House decided he was happier when he didn't admit it.


	13. Dirty Laundry

House shouldered his way into the door. Something smelled strange in his apartment…almost like fabric softener. As he neared the couch, he noticed Julia, headphones jammed in her ears, and _folding laundry_. It was piled around her, neatly folded, on the floor and on the couch next to her. He pulled the earphone from her ear.

"Hey, Fluff-And-Fold, what do you think you're doing?" he shouted in her ear. She responded by whipping a dishtowel at his face.

"Laundry, what does it look like, House?" she answered. He glanced around.

"How much laundry to you have? You had an _overnight_ bag! Now my house looks like you exploded in here!"

"Most of it's yours," Julia replied. House looked around. Indeed, most of it was his.

"You were going through my clothes?" he shouted. Julia shrugged, apparently not intimidated by his tone.

"Yeah. Pawed right through your skivvies," she chuckled. She glanced up and noticed him glaring at her.

"Oh, what? You've got socks that weren't just walking on their own, I had to hunt them down and fight them into the washer; you have tshirts that don't move in the wind. You should have a biohazard sign above your hamper and you're offended I did your laundry?" she laughed. "Oooh, wait, do you have tighty-whities in here?" She began searching the laundry basket.

"It's _my_ stuff, you idiot!" House bellowed.

"So?" Julia said. House flopped onto the couch, upsetting several piles of laundry. He put his feet up on another pile.

"Get off, House," Julia ordered, gently nudging his legs aside.

"Or _what_?" he growled.

"I'll put those bunny slippers on you in your sleep, take a picture, make copies, and give them to all the nurses. And Cuddy will get a poster-size," Julia answered devilishly.

"A nude spread might get more of a reaction," House quipped.

"Yeah, of nurses running screaming to the psych ward en masse. You're too skinny for that," Julia said, poking him in the side. She began loading the folded clothes back into the basket, gently moving him so she could get at the clothes he was sitting on. The effort was obviously bothering her broken ribs and he could see her flinching in pain.

"Here, come here before you pass out," he growled. She came over to him and he dropped a Vicodin into her hand. She grabbed a bottle of water off the coffee table and took the pill. She still looked very pale.

"How did you carry the laundry, you moron?" House asked. She shrugged weakly, waiting for the pill to work. House glanced at her IPod.

"_Baba O'Riley_? You like The Who?" he asked.

"Yes, along with the Rolling Stones and other bands before my time. Now _move_!" Julia ordered, trying in vain to move him off the last shirt he was sitting on. House wedged himself down, regretting it when she actually tried to lift him and he heard her hiss sharply in pain. He gently pushed her away, grinning at her to hide his unease at her pain.

"Fine, then!" she grumbled, grabbing his good leg and yanking off the shirt. She tried to hide a yelp of pain and frankly, so did he.

"Watch that! It's the only one I have left! And you're going to break yourself, knock it off!" House whined. She snatched the shirt off the couch, refolded it and deposited it in the basket.

"Your fault," she muttered. She clutched her side and winced.

"You're stupid," he sighed, "Not everyone has the tolerance for pain I do!" Julia reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bottle of Vicodin, rattling it at him.

"_Some_ tolerance!" she scoffed, raising an eyebrow. He snatched the bottle away from her, feeling almost ashamed of himself. He popped a Vicodin and shrugged.

"These _are_ my pain tolerance, Slave-Nurse!" he snapped.

"Not much of a tolerance, Phantom," she retorted. "What do you want for dinner? Want me to make something or do you want to order pizza?"

"So, now that you're not a slave-nurse at the hospital, I get to have you as a slave here?" House asked.

"No, but I couldn't stand the sight of that hamper anymore and I'm hungry. Do you _ever_ do laundry?" she asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," House answered, nastily.

"Do you use soap?"

"No, I just dump them in and pray!"

"That explains a lot, considering how atheistic you are." Julia moved the baskets of laundry off to the side and settled on the couch next to him.

"So, what, are we married now? Next you'll be asking me for the remote control, _which_, you _aren't_ getting!" House said. Julia frowned at him.

"Oh, now let's not talk on that. I just ate and the thought of being married to you is just too nauseating to comprehend!" she laughed, snatching the remote away from him.

"Hey!" he barked.

"Tell me what you want for dinner and be nice about it or I'll never give you the remote back. _And_ I'll play the piano!" Julia teased.

"I'll starve!" House snapped. She tossed the remote back, and sat down at the piano.

"Let me guess, all Broadway?" he sneered.

"No, I know some Meatloaf and the theme from _Lord of the Rings_," she replied. "And I don't play by memory, like you. I have to bring sheet music with me." She grabbed a backpack House hadn't previously noticed and yanked out a pile of music like a rabbit from a hat.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked.

"Borders."

"No, your stuff. I got Michael to get me an overnight bag for you. He didn't give me a backpack," House growled. "Did you go back to your apartment?" Julia shook her head. House grabbed her arm, ignoring the cry of pain when he jerked her to her feet.

"You don't get it, do you? He's _stalking_ you! He already hurt you and now you went and practically painted a bull's-eye on your ass!" he shouted in her face. She shoved him away.

"I can't stay here hiding like a scared little mouse forever!" she snapped.

"Julia!" House groaned.

"House!" Julia mimicked. She turned to leave and he grabbed her arm again. She jerked away from him so hard she knocked herself off her feet and landed against the piano. Her face paled as her broken rib shifted and she curled up on the floor. House knelt next to her.

"I hate you!" she gasped. House sighed and gently lifted her to a sitting position.

"I hate me too sometimes. You know what I kept thinking the entire time when I first found you?" he asked. Julia shook her head.

"I hated myself for being too crippled to pick you up and carry you. I hate myself enough, Julia, please don't make me hate myself anymore," he told her.

"Somewhat selfish outlook on it, isn't it?" she asked petulantly.

"Everything is selfish, sweetheart, _everything_! You can't change that. But the thing is I still worry something will happen to you and…" he trailed off. Julia frowned.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I'd have to start making my own food again," House answered, too quickly. He pulled himself up and handed his cane down to her so she could use it to stand. She still looked pale and House wondered if she was really ok.

"Hey, Crippy-Boy, what do you want for dinner?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Something edible, Stupid Bitch!" House snapped at her. Julia turned and gave him a smile, edged with pain. He'd seen the same smile on himself before.

She made lasagna, rather good lasagna too, and then retreated to the piano. She wasn't bad, but she certainly wasn't good. She'd miss a note and keep going. House reflected that he hoped that she would keep that principle going in her own life. He pretended not to listen, sitting on the couch with a medical journal. Every now and then, she'd miss another note and keep going. He popped a Vicodin and watched her play.


	14. Truce & Conditions of Prisoner Release

Julia was sitting on the couch when Wilson walked in the next evening.

"Why is it that you have a key and I don't?" she asked, without turning around from the TV.

"Where's House?" Wilson asked, ignoring her.

"He ran out to get some beer. Apparently, after that little bender of ours, we're running low," she answered. Wilson stood, with his hands on his hips, looking around. A pair of her pointe shoes lay on the coffee table, and her pain medication lay on the table.

"I made a mistake letting you in, didn't I? You haven't left! You've made yourself a little nest! Have you gone anywhere?"

"Yeah, I did. I left to go to work, you remember, you, me, House, the hospital?" she said, grinning at him. He rolled his eyes and moved around the couch.

"So he up and took you home, huh?" he asked, a bit nastier than he meant to.

"He won't let me leave the house. I actually had to climb out the window and hope no one else had the reverse idea to get my stuff from my apartment," she said. Wilson gaped at her.

"See, this is why I don't like you! You have no regard for anything. House's apartment could have been burglarized; your lovely ex-boyfriend could have caught up with you! You're going to hurt him and you know it! And who's going to be left to pick up the pieces? Me! Always me!" Wilson blurted. She finally looked up, almost in shock.

"Wilson, are you mad at me or are you jealous?" she asked.

"I'm not gay, dammit! What…"

"I didn't mean that. You're his best friend. Do you think that because he has someone now he's going to stop caring about you?" she asked. Wilson stared at her.

"No, no. I mean, he's always there, as much as sometimes I don't want him there. I just don't…"

"You don't think he'll be there anymore, clinging to you like he used to?" she asked. Wilson shrugged in a helpless way.

"You really love him, don't you? Not in the way I teased you about, but you really do love him," she said. She sounded surprised.

"Yeah, I guess I do. He's my best friend. I've been taking care of him for years and there's nothing I can do about it," Wilson replied, "He's been hurt so much in the past and I don't want to see him crawl inside himself again! Do you _know_ what it was like getting him over Stacy? Thankfully, he wasn't attracted enough to Cameron to really need getting over her, but still, _that_ wasn't fun either! And while he's making the rest of us miserable, you're _encouraging_ him! And he _doesn't_ cling!"

"Isn't it good for him to have fun. He actually smiled the other day, not in the way he usually does, you know, when he's done something you're going to hate him for?" she said, "Shouldn't that be ok?"

"It's just been a while since he had a girlfriend and I don't want _you_ to mess up!" he snapped. Julia frowned.

"Wilson, he loves you a lot and I mean that. You're his best friend and he's never going to forget that. I don't want to make this a big tug of war over him. Frankly I think you and I are the only two people on this world who would fight over him."

"You're not fighting over him. You're apparently fighting to pick him to bits and let me sweep it up. Do you know how tired I am of following the elephant with a shovel? No, not even a shovel, a_ teaspoon_!" Wilson said.

"You're a very caring man and House is lucky to have you. Maybe you're right, but I care about him too, please understand that," Julia said, "And what's with this snapping thing? You're usually the sweetest man around the hospital, according to every nurse I've spoken to! Do you really dislike me this much?"

"You're a bad influence. I've been trying a long time to get him to feel better about the world, to try to get rid of the misanthropy, and get him away from the damn pills. You're going to make everything crash in on him!"

"Why do you think so?"

"Ever push on a door and when someone finally opens it, you fall flat on your face?"

"Yeah. Quite a bit."

"I'm worried that he sees you as a challenge, so he's going to push and push hard. If you leave, and he's still pushing, he'll fall right through. Do you know how hard it is to get him back on his feet again?" Wilson said.

"Wilson, I know you care about him and don't want to see him get hurt. I can't promise I'll be here forever, but I do promise that, if I do leave, I'll make sure he's stopped pushing first," she said very seriously. "And I am not taking him away from you. I am fine with sharing, in a totally heterosexual way for both of us." Wilson shrugged and still seemed uneasy.

"You can laugh, you know. You may not like me, but you have to admit I'm funny," she said. Wilson finally cracked a smile.

"You are. _And_ you can cook, so House will stop eating my food," Wilson said.

"No, he won't. He likes the attention he gets from you for doing it, whether or not he admits it. Think of it this way, Jim, you had him far longer and have a far bigger place in his heart than I do. Isn't it 'bro's before ho's'?" she asked. Wilson let out a laugh.

"House said that once, and yes, it is. It's Wilson, by the way, I'm not _that_ comfortable with you, and I'm still monitoring you and him, just so you know," he said.

"I know, and I'd expect nothing less, but can we call a truce? Lecture _him_ all you want, but don't lecture _me_, fair?" Julia said, "I will try very hard to keep him happy.

"Truce," Wilson answered. He glanced at the TV.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

"World's Most Extreme Predators. Thought I'd see House on there," she answered. Wilson laughed.

"Wait, there he is!"

"I don't think House is a shark, Wilson. More like a hyena; takes nothing seriously, his laugh strikes fear into the hearts of department fellows everywhere, and he bites," Julia replied.

"That was over-share," Wilson muttered. House leaned against the doorjam, smiling. He'd gotten in just after Wilson did and he'd heard everything. He jingled the beer bottles he held.

"Oh, hi, Wilson, did you two have a little chat without killing each other? It's so flattering to have you two battling over me!" he said, mockingly.

"We thought about killing each other, but decided to let each other live to make you miserable!" Julia said. House grunted and pulled 3 beers from the 12 pack he was carrying and handed them out. Wilson frowned at him, pointing outside.

"I took Julia's car, which _I don't fit in_, as I had no desire to kill myself trying to get a 12 pack of beer home," House explained.

"You fit fine in Julia's car when I was crammed in it," Wilson said. House glared at him. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, drinking beer and watching a shark rip apart a piece of fish.

"Did the nurses really say I'm the sweetest man in the hospital?" Wilson asked. Julia laughed.

"Yeah, Wilson's a pimp!" House said.

* * *

The next morning, House walked into his living room to find Julia sitting at the kitchen table. She was reading a magazine he didn't recognize, but, judging by the cover, it was something about horror movies.

"A pancreas doesn't look like that," he said, glancing over her shoulder.

"It's a horror movie. You _know_ how concerned they are with accuracy," she replied.

"Which one is that?"

"Something Blood And Guts Number Something," she answered with a smile.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah."

She read and he drank his coffee. She suddenly turned the magazine around.

"I feel bad for this victim. She's going to die in an empty cell completely devoid of outside contact and bloodied and alone!" she said melodramatically, waving a picture of a busty blond in fake-ripped clothing screaming at her captor, a chainsaw weilding thing with three heads in his face. House glared at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Come on, House, I'm stuck in here! I'm going stir crazy! I'm going to climb the walls and you'll find me on the ceiling like Linda Blair, hovering above the bed!" she whined.

"Don't whine, you sound like more of a moron than you are," House grumbled, turning his back on her.

"Or like a little girl so you feel even older than you are!" she growled.

"I'm not old,"

"You are almost exactly twenty years older than I am, you're _ancient_!"

"I'm not old, then, am I?" House said. Julia stopped short and cocked her head to the side like a puppy.

"Tell me what that tattoo is on your back and we can go out somewhere," he said. She laughed. He scowled; he'd been meaning to ask her about it, but never had.

"You have seen me named a million times and you never thought to look?" she asked.

"Not really. Had my mind on other things or controlled by something other than my brain," he answered. She laughed again and lifted her shirt. _Made in Korea_ was tattooed in a small tag-like square on her back.

"My friends and family always used to stick the stickers on me. I'm saving them the trouble," she said. House chuckled.

"Can we go somewhere, House? The mall, the movies, the morgue, _anywhere_!" she begged.

"Yes, fine, alright. We'll go to a hockey game to keep you happy," he muttered. She froze.

"Hockey game?"

"Yes, on Cuddy's suggestion…actually, she bribed me into it- I'm taking you to a hockey game tonight. Flyers Vs Devils," he said. Julia smiled so widely House thought for a minute she was going to break herself. She threw herself into his arms, knocking him against the kitchen counter. The impact made them both grunt in pain. She shook herself a little before burying her face back against his body.

"Thank you, House!" she said against his chest. House realized with some shock most of his weight was on his bad leg, and, while it was sore, it wasn't agonizing. He returned the hug briefly before thrusting her away.

"Enough of that. I expect to be fully compensated for a night of standing around with the dregs of humanity," he grumbled. She tweaked his nose and he slapped her hand away.

"How many clinic hours did you cheat Cuddy out of?" she asked.

"Actually, she let me out of a week just to make sure I wasn't turning you into a sex slave or something," he said.

"Well, we have just under twelve hours before the game starts. What do you want to do until then?" she asked.

"I can think of one or two things."


	15. Hockey Night

Although House was thoroughly disgusted by the crowd, seeing Julia so obviously having a good time definately helped

Although House was thoroughly disgusted by the crowd, seeing Julia so obviously having a good time definately helped. She pranced alongside him like an over-excited puppy, dressed in a hockey jersey several sizes too big for her.

"So, which one are you a big fan of again? They're all wearing the same thing, I can never tell," he muttered as she forced him to a souvenir booth.

"Marty Brodeur, the goalie. He's number 30, and the best goalie ever!" she answered, taking a baseball-cap from the shelf and jamming it on his head. He immediately took it off.

"Red isn't my color," he told her. She smiled and bought the hat for him anyway.

"You're wearing it at least for the game or no sex," she ordered. He rolled his eyes and readjusted the hat.

"Cuddy is never going to let me hear the end of this," he grumbled. Julia produced a camera out of nowhere and snapped his picture before he could stop her.

"No, _now_ she won't! House at a sporting event," she said with a giggle.

"I'll leave you here," he said, grabbing her around her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his waist and cuddled into his chest.

"No you won't," she said. She checked their tickets and her watch.

"Come on, pregame show is starting. It's never all _too_ exciting, but it's best to get to your seats early so you don't have to climb over everyone to get to sit down," she explained.

"Fine. How do you find _anything_ in here, Julia?" he asked. She laughed and grabbed his arm. They wound through the outer arena, then through the maze of seats, up some stairs, down some stairs, and across a row of seats.

"It's a rat maze! They intend to capture us and do experiments on the effects of mindless sports on the brain," House quipped. Julia smiled at him.

"Not even you could ruin my good time! And you _like_ hockey!" she said.

"Yeah, I like hockey at _home_, not with every single winner of the Darwin Awards sitting next to me!" he grunted. The players took the ice and Julia pointed out her goalie; certainly not the biggest goalie House had seen, but number 14 caught his attention; he was downright tiny next to his teammates.

"Who's that?" he asked. "The midget down there who looks like the rest of his team is about to run him straight over?"

"#14? That's Brian Gionta; the smallest player in the whole league and got some of the best skates in the business. And he's 5'7," Julia explained.

"They let people _that_ small play? He's going to get annihilated! _Now_ I'm interested!" House said, evilly. "At least he's bigger than you are!"

"By only a few inches! And I could race circles around you if I ever got you on skates! How many hockey games have you played?" she asked.

"Lacrosse, and I played forward!" House replied. She smiled at him.

"Pussy," she muttered under her breath.

House had to admit he enjoyed the game, although he refused to stand up and cheer for every goal. He did cheer a bit during the big fight between about four or five players from each side, causing one of the Flyers to be shipped down to the locker room to reset his face.

"Can't they do that the whole game?" he jokingly whined at Julia, who smirked at him and told him she'd take him to a boxing match some time.

Julia pulled him through the throngs of people and the impressive maze of the arena so she could smoke outside between periods. It was impressive how well she knew the place and never seemed to be lost.

"So, what do you think?" she asked, lighting a cigarette.

"It's overcrowded. Game's not bad, although I'd rather if something blew up," House said. Julia shrugged.

"If we lost to the Rangers, you might see some explosions," she replied. Suddenly she froze, grabbing his hand so hard House felt his knuckles pop.

"What?" he asked. She turned her head, into his chest. He scanned the crowd and recognized Richard moving through the people towards them. House cursed so loudly several people turned to look at him. Julia dropped her cigarette and began pushing House back into the arena, but was suddenly jerked out from under his arm so hard he almost stumbled. Richard had Julia by her arm and was yanking her away from him, yelling obscenities at her. House lunged and grabbed the back of Julia's jersey. His leg was punishing him for it already, but the adrenalin prevented him from feeling it just yet. He jammed his cane into the ground to keep from falling, shockwaves rolling painfully up his arm, and pulled Julia back out of Richard's grip. He heard her gag around the collar of her shirt, and he switched grips and grabbed her under her arms. A crowd had gathered by now and someone had called security. Richard lunged at Julia again and his body weight took all three of them down. Richard landed a punch on the side of House's head and his skull rocked back against the pavement. The world swam around him, but he braced himself, determined not to let Julia go.

"Let go of her!" Richard shouted. With a snarl, House swung his cane, catching Richard in the shoulder. The younger man howled and let go of Julia at last. Two bystanders pulled Richard away from them and handed him off to security, but he reeled away and took off into the parking lot. House didn't notice much of any of this. His world became the intense pain from his leg and head, and Julia, curled up in his arms, clinging to his waist, as if she expected to be pulled away again. She wasn't crying and she had ceased to shake, and House even wondered for a moment if she had fainted. But she gently disentangled herself and slowly staggered inside, shaking off people who tried to help her. House got to his feet, helped by one or two spectators. They had attracted quite a crowd, most of which were staring after Julia.

"What are you all looking at? Go do something else!" he snarled as he followed her.

Julia stood just inside the door, inspecting a rip in the jersey she was wearing. House had actually torn the collar free trying to pull her away from Richard.

"You alright?" he asked as he approached. She shrugged. Her face was frighteningly blank and pale.

"Let's go in and watch the rest of the game. We don't have to move from the seats again if you don't want to," he suggested. She shook her head slowly.

"No, he's ruined it. He ruins everything. I just want to go home, House. Please?" she asked. He went to step towards the door when his leg decided it'd had enough and began to give on him. He swallowed a cry of pain and staggered back on his good leg. Julia looked up at him, concerned. He waved her off and swallowed a few Vicodin.

"Your ex is quite a champion at causing pain," he growled, trying to straighten up. Julia nodded silently and let him lean on her shoulder, although it was obviously hurting her. They slowly walked out of the arena.

"I'm sorry," she murmured as they walked. She was silent until they got home.


	16. Face the Fear

When they got home, Julia threw her keys onto the coffee table and immediately went to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Cursing wildly, House yelled at the police, yelled at Wilson, and was pretty sure he yelled at Cameron –although he didn't really remember which one of the three he was talking too, but he yelled at one of them. He sighed and popped a few Vicodin; he checked on Julia, who was sleeping curled up on his side of the bed.

"Greg?" she whispered. She'd never used his first name before.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to be scared anymore," she said, sitting up. He sat down next to her and twisted his fingers into her hair. She rested her head on his good knee and gently pried his cane away from him.

"I don't even feel safe here anymore. He's taken it all. I have to figure out how not to be afraid anymore," she said, twirling his cane around her fingers like he did sometimes when he was thinking. She lay there, resting against him, playing with his cane until she dozed off. House eased her off his lap, tucked her in and went to sit down on the couch with a beer. He was thinking in terms of 'her side of the bed' and was monstrously protective of her. Julia would hate him for it later, but he couldn't help himself. He actually hated himself in a way; he'd never wanted another girlfriend- the Cameron debacle should've proved that. But he was happy, with the exception of this idiocy involved in dear Richard, who House imagined coming down with every creative infectious disease he could remember. Maybe, if he could keep her afloat through this business, she'd stay and keep him happy. That didn't seem as awful as he thought it would be.

"House?" Wilson whispered, shaking him awake. He'd fallen asleep on the couch.

"What?" he groaned.

"Is she alright?" Wilson asked. House sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"She's sleeping…" he said. There was a small piece of paper tucked underneath his hand. He frowned and unfolded it.

_Greg:_

_I'm not afraid anymore. I wanted you to know that I love you. And even if you couldn't say it, I know you love me back. Thank you. –Julia_

He frowned before a wave of panic struck him in the face and he rushed up the stairs. Julia wasn't in bed. He rushed to the bathroom. The door was locked. He was vaguely aware of Wilson asking what was wrong, but paid him no attention. When the door wouldn't open, he smashed the doorknob with his cane. The door finally popped open and time seemed to stop.

As House entered the room, he felt the air rush out of him, the strength leave his muscles. He dropped to his knees beside where Julia lay in the bathtub. Wilson pushed by him and checked for a pulse, but House knew he wouldn't find one. Julia did everything on her own terms and she'd known what she was doing. Wilson stopped and stood back, staring at House. House couldn't even find the strength to cry, he couldn't scream, he couldn't even breathe. He just stared at Julia, her face so pale she looked like a china doll, starkly contrasting the red, red water she lay in. Her eyes were closed and for a moment, she looked like she was just sleeping. But he could see, even through the dark red water she'd done a good job, just like he would've expected. She'd broken a mirror and used the pieces to cut both wrists and both thighs and the shard still clutched in her hand reflected his face. He heard Wilson saying something, but couldn't hear. He gently lifted Julia out of the water, wrapping her in a towel and held her on his lap. His world shrank to the slight weight resting on his legs and the subtle cold of the water and blood soaking into his clothes.

* * *

House didn't follow the ambulance out when it took Julia away. He had handed her over without a word, Wilson gently guiding him through the motions. He felt robotic, numb, cold, and completely disengaged from what was happening around him. He felt slightly guilty that he couldn't bring himself to cry for her. He was too angry. He lost track of time and anything that wasn't alcoholic or a pill.

"House?" someone called through the haze of alcohol and Vicodin he'd plunged himself into. He didn't answer. Someone shook his shoulder and he finally looked up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled at Cameron.

"I wanted to check on you," she answered.

"I'm so unwilling to go into the bathroom I almost peed out the window this morning. I drink until I can't feel anymore and then I take a bunch of Vicodin to make sure. I haven't eaten since it happened and I can't shower because that's where she died. Is _that_ good enough?" he shouted. She took a step back.

"House, I'm sorry…"

"Oh, yeah, right, you're sorry! You hated her! Get out of my sight! I don't need to hear how fake-sorry you are!" he screamed. Cameron jumped back away from him and raced for the door. Wilson replaced her in front of him.

"What the hell was that? She came over to be nice and you attack her?" Wilson shouted.

"Get away from me! Next, _you're_ going to tell me how sorry you are! You hated her too! It's amazing how everyone becomes so well-loved when they die!" House bellowed, shoving Wilson away. Wilson stumbled, tripping over the coffee table and knocking over the chess set House had left out.

"You know that she'd be mad at you for being like this!" Wilson said.

"What do you know? You barely spoke to her unless it was to yell at her!"

"I do know you cared about her! For once in forever you cared about someone enough to be so protective of her, you're still fighting me even though she's been dead for two days!"

"She's dead because I couldn't save her! Out of all the people I've saved, I didn't give a damn and then the one person I couldn't save was the one person I cared for!"

"Oh, so now we're going to go through the 'I'll never love again' thing?"

"Maybe I won't!" House snapped. He stopped short and so did Wilson.

"Did you love her, House?" Wilson asked. House hesitated.

"What if I did? What difference does it make if I loved her? She's still dead," he muttered. Wilson shrugged.

"I know enough not to give you the 'gone, but not forgotten' speech. But, if you loved her, doesn't that…"

"No! It means I should've woken up sooner, it means you should have gotten over here sooner, it means that I loved her and she went and died on me. I have a very low opinion of love right now, so get off it!" House snapped. Julia's words from the night before echoed in his head, but he wasn't about to ask Wilson if he loved him.

"I should have told her. Maybe then she…"

"How can you blame yourself?" Wilson asked.

"I'm blaming everyone," House answered.

"You're afraid of being without her and the only way to deal with it is by being angry at everyone?" Wilson asked.

"Maybe I am afraid, but I'm _facing_ it in the only way I know how, which is better than she did! I'm trying to face it by forgetting her and you won't let me! That's why I'm so angry!" House snapped. Wilson reflected for a time before speaking again.

"Tell me about her," Wilson said suddenly. House looked up at him.

"She's dead, what else?" he muttered.

"No, no, I want you to tell me all about her. Everything you knew," Wilson demanded. House swallowed hard and shook his head.

"No. What did I just say, Wilson?"

"I don't care. I want you to tell me everything and I'm not going away until you do. Tell me everything you know about her and I will leave you alone."

After almost an hour of arguing, House told him how Julia laughed. He told him how she'd loved to dance pointe, but had to stop because of an injury, but that hadn't stopped her from prancing through the halls of the hospital like an idiot. She'd actually thought half the awful things that came out of his mouth were funny. That she had played guitar and had promised to learn something from the Rolling Stones for him, and she knew how to play piano, but had refused to do so. How much she sucked at chess. Her gay roommate had taught her to wear heels, but she never did because she thought dressing up was just making a peacock out of herself and she figured if someone was going to like her, they'd be happy with her MASH tshirts and yellow jacket. That yellow jacket that she always wore and the joke he'd made about it when they'd first met. It occurred to him that her ugly, awful yellow jacket was still hanging in his closet. He eased himself off the couch and retrieved it, his leg hurting murderously. He popped another Vicodin and sat back down on the couch, staring at her jacket. It smelled like her, like juniper and cigarettes.

"She loved this jacket and I never understood why. Hell, she didn't understand why. I guess that explains a lot, considering who she spent her last days with," he muttered. "Still smells like her."

"You know, smell is the sense most tied to memory. Maybe you should keep the jacket," Wilson suggested. House shrugged.

"Do I have to remember her?" he asked.

"Yes. I think you do. I've never seen someone place themselves so fully into your life like she did. You must have really loved her and that's worth remembering," Wilson said. The phone rang, irritatingly loud. House snatched it and threw it across the room, where it landed under the piano. Wilson sighed and went to go pick it up.

"You're slipping in your old age, you didn't even scratch it," he muttered as he answered it. Suddenly his face paled and he slid into the kitchen.

"What is it, Wilson?" House called. Wilson didn't answer. House stood, leaning heavily on his cane. This was when he missed Julia the most; her presence had always made his leg feel better.

Wilson was whispering into the phone when House entered the kitchen. He tried to turn his back to House and keep his words down, but House heard Julia's name and snatched the phone.

"What's going on?" he shouted into the phone. He heard a muttered curse on the other end. It was Cuddy.

"House, maybe this isn't…"

"What?"

"House…"

"Damn it, Lisa tell me right now what's going on!" he screamed. He heard Cuddy gasp- he hadn't used her first name in almost fifteen years.

"They caught him…they caught Richard," she whispered.


	17. Resolution

As you might have guessed, this chapter is not new, but I'm putting in revision chapters, and they end up as the last chapter first. Hit the menu and bring up whatever's new. ;)

**_And thank you to everyone for your reviews!_**

* * *

House barreled into the hospital, shoving people aside as he went. Wilson ran behind him.

"Where is he?" he shouted, grabbing Cuddy by the arms.

"No, House, I'm not telling you like this! Please, come to my office and we can…" Cuddy began, trailing off as he began to squeeze. He'd never hurt her before and now he was ready to break her arms.

"Tell me where he is, Cuddy! Now!" he growled in her face, shaking her like a rag doll. Wilson yanked him away from Cuddy.

"Knock it off, House. No one's telling you now," he grunted, yanking House into Cuddy's office. Cuddy followed, shakily rubbing her arms.

"What happened?" House asked as Wilson shoved him into a chair.

"He intentionally ran his car into a wall. Damn airbag saved his life," Cuddy told him.

"Great. Julia slits her wrists in the bathtub and he gets a bruise," House grumbled.

"Well, he has a ton of damage. He's intubated in ICU and then he goes to jail if he lives," Cuddy told him. House gripped his cane until he felt his knuckles crack. His leg raged at him and he tossed back a few Vicodin as Cuddy watched him.

"Are you alright?" Cuddy asked. He glared at her.

"No, I'm not alright. You were trying so hard for me to say she was my girlfriend and now that I admit it, she's dead! Because of that stupid jerk in ICU!" he shouted. "Dammit, Cuddy, I want him dead. That way…that way it would be _fair_! Stupid rapists who beat their ex-girlfriends and stalk them to death should die. I should be yelling at Julia for being an idiot at attempting such a thing. She should have screwed it up, not him!"

"I miss her too, House. She was a wonderful girl and a great nurse," Cuddy said.

"Then, you know what?" House said, standing. He swung his cane, catching Wilson behind the knees and raced out the door. Cuddy followed him and tried to grab his arm, but he shook her off easily. He dragged himself to ICU. The nurses looked at him in shock. Without a word, Brenda pointed to a room to his left. He walked in and slammed the door, jamming it with a chair. Richard stared at him from the bed. He had indeed been intubated and was wrapped in bandages. His eyes eased open as House entered the room. House stood there for a moment, willing himself to kill him, unplug the respirator, jab him with a needle full of something, anything, it didn't matter.

"Richard Schneider, right? I'm Greg House, Julia's boyfriend. I suppose you heard what happened," he said, pulling a chair up to Richard's bed.

"I suppose you think I'm here to kill you, hurt you, do whatever and frankly, I'd love to do so," House continued. He popped another Vicodin and perched himself on the edge of the chair. Cuddy was pounding on the door outside.

"Now, you see, that there is Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Julia's former boss and my current boss. What do you think she would do if I cut off your oxygen while we sit here? Oh, she'll get the door open eventually, 

but I highly doubt it would be in time to save you if I really wanted to kill you. Ah, see, Wilson's coming now. I hit him pretty good to get this time together with you, so be appreciative. Julia was the only one other than him that liked me.

"So, I suppose you think I'm here to kill you. Or that you even want me to kill you, but the problem with that is I'm a doctor, I'm not supposed to kill people. I'm supposed to make them all better. In your case, I don't want to do either. I want you to live with what you took from this world. From me." He reached in his pocket and pulled out Julia's ID picture, followed by a picture she'd given him of her and her pet rats. There was a picture of her with Steve –and Steve, in turn, biting her finger-, although he didn't know who'd taken it, which he'd just put in his wallet for the hilarity of it. She was smiling in each of them.

"Now, I'm one miserable bastard. Ask anyone in this hospital. I am the meanest, most manipulative, miserable person you'll meet for years and years to come. And you know what? She made me happy. She might have once made you happy. Just remember that she's gone now and it's because of you. I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to hang these pictures up in your room so you can be reminded of what you did to her." With that, House stood, propped the pictures up next to Richard's bed, and unjammed the door.

"He's fine. I'm going to my office to think now, if no one minds," he said, passing Cuddy and Wilson's shocked looks. One of the nurses stopped him as he went to turn the corner.

"Dr. House? Julia had me take this 'to use for later'. I just got it printed out when I heard. She'd want you to have it," she said, pressing another picture into his hands. It was him and Julia, talking next to his bike. She was smiling at him. _You antagonize me all day and you expect a ride home?__ You'll say yes_. He smiled.

"Thanks," he said. He wandered to his office, staring at the picture. He turned the corner and ran face-first into Chase.

"House! What are you doing here?" he said.

"Visiting someone, nothing important. Julia actually had a nurse sneak a picture of us," House answered. Chase turned the picture so he could see it.

"She got you already by this one. That's one adoring glare you're giving her," Chase said. House shrugged.

"Yeah." He walked into his office and shut the door. Cuddy came in a few minutes later.

"I'm proud of you," she said.

"Why? He just wasn't worth it. Julia would've wanted him dead," House muttered.

"What now?" Cuddy asked.

"I don't know. I can live without her, right? I get over her and go on with my life, just like the last 49 years. Alone," he said. He opened his desk drawer to put the picture away. Inside was a chess piece, a king. Wrapped around it was a piece of paper. He recognized Julia's handwriting.

_House, a king can't win a game all by itself. Even you can't do everything on your own. That's what I'm here for. I'll always be here, no matter what. Say the word, you know I will find you and if you need some time, I don't mind. Love, Julia_

Cuddy came around his desk and took his hand as he stared at Julia's message. Pain rose up in his chest as he stared at her handwriting. He hadn't cried in a long time and finally, in his office with Cuddy and Julia's handwriting the tears finally came. He was mildly embarrassed, crying all over Cuddy. She rubbed his back and tried to be soothing, but she only made it worse. And all he could think was that, no matter what he said, Julia would never find him ever again.

* * *

He went through the motions at her funeral. Indignity upon indignity, her parents at put her in a dress for it. While he never made mention that Julia had been seeing him, her brother shook his hand and told him he was sorry. Cuddy was gripping his arm for half the time, crying like an imbecile. House said nothing. Mike, her roommate told him they'd go through her stuff for him and give him something if he wanted, but he found he didn't. Halfway through, he moved away from the group of people surrounding Julia's coffin, blaming his leg as a reason. But he didn't feel his leg. He felt numb.

* * *

House went home feeling heavy. The anger had worn off and now he actually felt Julia's loss. He pulled the bottle of Vicodin out of his pocket, found it empty, and went for a fresh one. It didn't rattle when he pulled it from the drawer, but felt strangely heavy. He popped it open. There was a picture folded up inside and a note.

_I danced in college. Never professionally. And the way I stand is not a bastardized 4__th__ position, it's 3__rd__ position and it's more comfortable. Learn your positions!_

The picture was of Julia, looking appropriately embarrassed, in a typical tutu and her pointe shoes, leaning against the wall backstage at a theater. He reached into the bag and pulled another bottle.

There was a picture of Julia in a Devil's jersey.

_You have to learn to like a good hockey team. Ok, so the Devils slipped a little this year, but frankly, I thought you'd like a team called the Devils anyway…And Marty Brodeur rocks!_

And one of her and her brother, and true to Julia's form, she was trying to put him in a headlock.

_This is my dear brother Henry. He's ten years older than I am and probably to blame for my rejection of age barriers- I grew up with him and his friends and had none of my own age. Yeah, he's adopted too._

There was a picture of Julia holding a plastic bag full of pills, jamming them in the microwave.

_Don't worry, the pills are still around. I wouldn't do that to you. You just have to find them._

She had gone through every single pill bottle in his stash and replaced each of them with a note and a photograph. And in every stash he had. Each time, there was a picture of where she'd hidden the pills, but, for once, House didn't really care about them. There was even a small picture of her as a toddler; she'd been a very cute, fat little baby.

He smiled and sat on the couch, flipping through the pictures he'd found and the last note he'd found, rolled up in a pill bottle not in any of his stashes- actually it'd been rolled up in his underwear.

_Greg- I think I just needed to know someone loved me. Please don't be mad at me for this. I love you. I know suicide is selfish and I know I will hurt you. I love you and, in spite of what you think right now, I wanted you to be happy._

He looked up. Julia was sitting in front of him, in her MASH tshirt and jeans, just like she always was, smoking a cigarette and smiling at him.

"You know, you have some pretty vivid dreams, Greg," she said.

"I see dead people," he quipped, but didn't smile. "Actually, a dead idiot nurse who just decided to off herself in front of me."

"You mad at me?" she asked.

"Yes, actually. Shouldn't I be? You killed yourself in my bathtub. Is this going to be like one of those scary movies where I can even see the scars?" he said. She raised her arms. There were no scars.

"I didn't think your ancient old-man heart could handle it," she said, sitting next to him on the couch and snubbing her cigarette into one of the empty pill bottles.

"Are you about to tell me you can't always get what you want? I've heard that one before. It's the story of my life," he grumbled. She shrugged and snuggled up to him. She felt warm.

"Greg, you _can't_ always get what you want. I couldn't get away from Richard, just like you can't seem to be happy. But I love you, I always will. Call it one of those whirl-wind romances," she told him. She poked him in the side.

"I should've stuck around a little longer just to get you to be less skinny. God, House, you can't live off Vicodin alone!"

"Why didn't you stay then, you moron? If you wanted me off the Vicodin, if you wanted me to quit being thin, if you wanted me to do _anything_, why didn't you stay?" he asked.

"Call it hindsight being 20/20, maybe I should've. It's too late now. And would you really have given up Vicodin for me?" she replied. He stopped and thought for a moment.

"No."

"Yeah, didn't think so. That'd be too weird," she said with a laugh. "Where did you think it'd go? Marriage, kids, me pushing you around in a wheelchair in a year or two when you finally get too old or lazy to bother walking?"

"I don't know. I would have liked to have figured it out as we went," he muttered.

"Well, Greg, you said I made you happy, would you really have been happy? You're happiest at your most miserable. Maybe I'm still making you happy. This gives you an excuse to be ten times more awful to Foreman, Chase, and Cameron. Imagine what you could get away with around Cuddy too!" she suggested. He looked at her.

"Wow, you actually thought! I'm surprised! And I was happy with Stacey, I'd have been happy with you. I just ended up making her miserable, but I highly doubt you'd cut another piece out of my leg. _And_ I think you're too stupid to know how to be miserable with me," he said.

"I didn't sleep when you thought I was sleeping. I thought of this a lot. You were the only thing keeping me here for a long time. I had to make sure you'd be ok if I left, through any means," she answered. He nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"I was in love with you, you know," he said quietly.

"I told you, I know. You'd better not forget it!"

Wilson stopped over a few hours later. He found House sleeping on the couch, wearing the bunny slippers Julia had given him. He laughed to himself and shook House awake. House opened one eye and glanced at the bunny slippers.

"I don't remember putting those on," he said.

"Sure you don't. How was the funeral?" he asked.

"Awful. I finally get to see her in a dress and she's in a coffin," House answered, stretching. "They frown upon you groping corpses." He was surrounded by pictures and notes from Julia. Somehow, he never wanted to move. Wilson stood there, just looking at him. House glanced at the bunny slippers again.

"I won't tell, if you won't," he said. He picked up the pill bottle. One of Julia's cigarettes was inside.

* * *

The next morning, he finally went into the bathroom. Blood still stained some of the grout between the tiles on the floor and the bathtub was stained. Wilson had obviously tried to clean it, but that would take time to come out. He sighed, took a shower, got dressed, and grabbed his cane. He still carried the pictures of the two of them on his bike together in his pocket.

"Now, if we don't have a case that's half-way interesting, I am going home right now," he said as he burst into his office. Cameron, Chase, and Foreman gaped at him.

"Are you sure you're alright to work?" Cameron stuttered.

"Are you alright to grow a brain?" House snapped. Cameron lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry for what happened," she murmured.

"Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry, everyone sorry, but while everyone's sorry, no one's telling me about anyone dying! Therefore, I am going home!" he snarled at her.

"House, we _do_ have a case," Foreman interjected.

"Oh, a case! Wonders never cease, my stunted black friend!" House growled, snatching the file offered him. Chase and Cameron exchanged worried glances. He inwardly smiled. Julia was right, abusing his coworkers _did_ make him feel better. He'd be alright, although the thought didn't really come out that way.

After an hour of lecture, insults, and yelling at was mean even for him, House sat in his office, staring at the chess piece. Wilson tapped on the door and walked in.

"You apparently are the new Hitler, Stalin, and Anti-Christ rolled into one. Are you _sure_ you're alright?" Wilson asked. House shrugged.

"I had a dream about Julia. And oddly, I feel better," House said simply. Wilson frowned at him.

"You had a dream? Like Ebenezer Scrooge life-changing dream?" he asked.

"No, more like I fell asleep, I dreamed of her telling me I'm too skinny and me calling her an idiot for dying on me and you woke me up,"

"Are you still mourning?"

"Oh don't start with that crap! And yes, I'm mourning, I'll be mourning for the rest of my life!" House snapped, popping another pill.

"But?"

"But I feel better, alright? Now go away!" Wilson smiled and left. House start there, looking at Julia's picture, propped up next to the chess piece. He sat there. He didn't hurt as much anymore, although that could've been the Vicodin talking. He still hurt, of course, but he knew he would. As he leaned back in his chair, he swore he smelled juniper and cigarettes. Suddenly, he knew what he wanted from Julia's apartment. He dug through his wallet for the number Mike had given him.

"Mike, it's Greg House. If you can find it, can I get that juniper shampoo Julia used?"


End file.
